Plausible Deniability
by JenJenJen13
Summary: She wants a distraction. He's wanted her for years. In any story, adding a strictly physical relationship to a friendship leads to complications, secrets and surprises. This one is no exception. Shinji/Takako, AU, Future!story
1. Chapter 1

It has been waaaay too long since I published something, so here we go, another Shinji/Takako for the ages.

WARNING: this one is rated "M" for a reason! Nothing explicit, but you have been warned. Language, sex, ect.

I planned this one to have a lot of backstory, so if you're confused feel free to ask me any questions! But it's better if you stay tuned until the end :D

* * *

Waking up naked and confused after a long night of partying should have lost its novelty by now. But as Shinji Mimura groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes before curling back into a ball—_why was the sun so bright ughhhh_—he wasn't really questioning his life choices. No, he was actually trying to keep the churning of his stomach down to a dull roar. He covered his eyes with his arm and moaned in discomfort, wondering when he'd been hit by a fucking truck during the festivities.

Then he removed his arm and was rather surprised to see his almost-entirely-naked body greeting him. Someone—the owner of this couch, he would presume—had covered his crotch with a handkerchief, but nothing else.

Why was he naked? And where the hell was he?

The two should go hand-in-hand—if he was in the house of some pretty girl who'd brought him home, well, that went without saying; however he still had recurring nightmares of waking up handcuffed and naked in Sho Tsukioka's bathtub. He was still grateful he'd been able to sneak out of the window before Sho had woken up.

It was too early and he was too hung over for such mysteries. And there went his stomach again, making all sorts of unpleasant sounds. (_Oi, Mimura, this is your stomach speaking, and I bear a message from your liver: I HATE YOU. STOP DRINKING. HERE, HAVE SOME PAIN, ON THE HOUSE. HAPPY HOUR IS FROM 4-6PM._)

He was naked, he was hung over, and he was role-playing with his anthropomorphised internal organs. Fuuucked up.

Shuuya's bachelor party was last weekend. This weekend—yesterday—was the wedding. His best friend was a married man, _he_ was losing his battle with crippling despair and loneliness, and that was what prompted him to thoroughly take advantage of the open bar. (_That and you SUCK. _Thank you, stomach.)

But right now he had other priorities, such as figuring out whose couch he'd commandeered for the night; where his underwear, expensive suit, wallet and keys had gotten to; and most important of all, finding a toilet. Because he was going to—

He didn't quite make it to that third goal. He made to get off the couch, but instead he rolled off rather gracelessly, and the effort of getting back to his feet was enough to make the dormant toxins in his stomach rise.

And now his throat burned, his mouth tasted awful and there was a lovely pile of vomit on the living room floor of this mysterious house/apartment/whatever. Pile of vomit? Puddle of vomit? Was vomit a solid, or a liquid? Judging by the smell of the stuff, he'd guess it was a gas, too.

In conclusion, handsome, successful Shinji Mimura was lying on the floor, naked and propped up on his elbows next to a mass of his own expelled stomach waste, thinking about the physical properties of vomit. He wasn't sure what success in life was, but this wasn't a picture of it.

He was beginning to think he was becoming an alcoholic. _The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem._ He rolled over onto his back with a groan, too nauseous to even think about moving. The ceiling appeared to be spinning. No, that was the ceiling _fan_.

He was interrupted from his churning stomach and throbbing headache—right behind his eye, too, that was the worst kind of headache—by a biting female voice. A familiar one, too.

"Oh, god _fucking_ dammit, Shinji. Really?"

Shinji looked up and met the glare of one Takako Chigusa, looking annoyed, amused, but mostly annoyed, still dressed in her pink pajamas and holding a blue mug.

Some part of him—his inner romantic, if you will—appreciated how beautiful she was even when she looked that pissed. The other part of him—his mind, common sense, hormones, healthy survival instinct, and so on—warned him not to get an erection because Takako had the home-field advantage and would not hesitate to stomp on his proffered anatomy.

He instinctively put his hands over his front and offered her a winning smile. "Mornin', sunshine."

But then he had to puke again.

(_Serves you right, JERK._)

Love you too, stomach.

* * *

Here we go into the flashback portion of the evening, the hazy poorly-pieced-together aftermath of the Nanahara-Utsumi nuptials.

The sappiest thing a gooey lovey-dovey engaged couple could do to ENSURE their single friends would want to commit hara-kiri during the exchanging of the wedding vows was choose to get married on Valentine's Day…

Which was exactly what Shuuya Nanahara and his bride Yukie Utsumi had decided to do. Predictable, perhaps, but it still made Shinji want to puke more than those beers he'd shotgunned with Yutaka and Kawada before the reception even began.

Needless to say, being one of several unhappy bachelors in a room full of happy couples and celebrating a wedding on Valentine's Day was probably the reason Shinji's heart was full of sad (and why his stomach was full of alcohol). But he was Shuuya's best friend, next to Yoshitoki Kuninobu anyway (Shuuya was so torn as to who to make his best man he'd wimped out and chosen Hiroki Sugimura instead), and therefore would be attending this wedding even if it meant he'd want to deep-throat a chainsaw for half the reception.

Normally he didn't mind attending weddings, because at least there'd be lonely bridesmaids to hook up with. But in this case, he'd either gone to school with the bridesmaids or they were related to Yukie, and he did _not_ want to incur the wrath of Shuuya's pretty wife when she found out he'd had a foursome with her cousins (he had not, by the way).

He ignored the fact that it was his own meddling that brought Shuuya and Yukie together, all those years ago back in high school. He was thrilled for his friends, maybe even a little envious of how happy they were, and annoyed at their absolute refusal to let him spend more than 5,000 yen on a wedding present.

Best friend getting married, live band playing the reception, a very fancy catering company donating the food (because Yukie's charisma worked in many ways), and best of all, an open bar. Because if Shinji was going to get roped into attending a wedding on Valentine's Day, he was definitely going to take _advantage_ of said open bar. Challenge accepted.

But his worries (minor annoyances, really) were for naught; Yukie had told her hot cousins about Shuuya's handsome best friend, and Shinji had been more than happy to delight them with his acquaintance. His _best _best man speech was written and tucked away in the inside pocket of his sport coat (even though he had planned to improv it anyway).

And the _true_ object of his affection had shown up after all, and he'd been pestering her for a dance all evening (and she'd refused him every time, grinning from ear to ear).

Then the time for speeches rolled around. Since nobody could know Shuuya for longer than fifteen minutes and not get fantastic story-telling material, there were quite a few people who had something to say…

Shinji waited for Shogo Kawada to finish his story ("This is the quietest I have EVER heard Shuuya be, EVER, in fact if I couldn't see him alive sitting fifty feet from me I'd have sent out an APB") before venturing into his own, reminding everyone of the time Shuuya decided to get a tattoo shortly after his 18th birthday.

"So Shu's got this whole idea panned out. He wants a guitar, his parents' anniversary, something about his name, an eagle, Wild Seven, baseball, a nude photo of Yukie—kidding about that part—anyway it was going to fill up half his arm. I agree to go for moral support (and comic relief). We get there, and Shuuya panics when he sees the pen they use to give you the tattoo. And he starts screaming when he hears the sound the thing makes."

"So he gets his shirt off, and the tattoo guy starts wiping his arm down with a wipe. Shuuya starts screaming again. "That was the wipe," says the guy. "Oh," said Shuuya. "Well it can't possibly hurt _that bad_, right?"

"WRONG. Exactly two minutes into getting this elaborate tattoo, he squeezed my hand so tightly he dislocated two metacarpal bones. Two. I'm sitting there wincing while this crybaby is screaming and asking for a bite-block because he can't stand the pain. Needless to say… he's got a line tattooed on his arm, and that's about it. Meanwhile, I spent four hours in the hospital getting my hand put back together by a very rude orthopedic surgeon."

"After you did the hot nurse!" Shuuya yelled, which made everyone either laugh or make a face of disgust.

Shinji waved that off. "I suppose you could say I'm responsible for getting our man Shuuya here into some rather difficult situations, some of these stories really needing about an hour or so of story-telling to really do them justice. But I'm happy to say that, for all the trouble I've gotten Shuuya in over the years—"

"And vice versa!" Shuuya added, laughing—

"Yeah, well, I take full credit for _insisting_Shuuya sprout a set and ask Yukie out in our first year of high school, and… here we are eleven years later." Shinji grinned at his best friend and raised his beer (champagne was for lightweights).

"And I never did get that tattoo!" Shuuya added, beside himself with laughter, throwing his arm around Shinji and clunking their beers together. ("Is this a 'toast the groom' or 'roast the groom' occasion?" several members of Yukie's family wondered, but they just didn't know Shuuya well enough, it seemed.)

Everything had been going great, Yukie's friends and family told some stories…

…and then Hiroki Sugimura, the official best man, asked for the floor, to deliver his heartfelt but very funny speech telling the story of how he'd first met Shuuya ("I remember thinking, this guy is a lunatic, when he gets to his feet, blood dripping down his face, his left eye swollen shut from the left hook he just took... and he grins at me and says "You gotta be more careful, man! Those guys woulda kicked your ass!" And then, somehow I knew, the lunatic standing before me… would become one of the best friends I'd ever have the pleasure of making. Congratulations, Shuuya and Yukie!").

Everyone applauded, toasted, and then Hiroki turned to his girlfriend, Mitsuko Souma (yes, the beauty formerly known as _Hardcore Souma_) and proposed.

And she said yes (after gasping with surprise and very nearly bursting into tears).

Everyone had been shocked (WHO PROPOSES AT SOMEONE ELSE'S WEDDING!) but neither Shuuya nor Yukie seemed at all offended, both of them squealing with delight (yes, Shuuya _squealed_, it was something you had to see to believe) and cheering that their wedding had spawned so much more love. (Which was actually typical for them. Damn optimists.)

Shinji was stunned. Hardcore—err, Mitsuko Souma had cleaned up her act over the years, probably around the second year of high school. Stopped the prostitution, gave up the drugs and alcohol, her wayward father even came back into her life and took responsibility of her around that time. She and Hiroki hooked up a few years after college, and they'd seemed pretty happy together over the past two years.

Still, remembering the wild child she used to be and imagining her married to kind, gentle Hiroki was a bit of a stretch. (Of course Hiroki always had a strange taste in women. Case en point, the woman equally beautiful to the future Mrs. Sugimura, who'd quietly gotten to her feet and disappeared as everyone congratulated the newly engaged couple.) Shinji laughed and cheered and applauded and thumped Hiroki on the back, along with everyone else…

…when he saw Takako leaving the room. Her long hair was keeping her face hidden from view, but he'd be willing to bet she wasn't too thrilled with the turn of events.

Sure, she was good friends with Yukie (and would never admit being close to Shuuya as well), but Shinji doubted Takako would have bothered to show up at this wedding had she known Hiroki was planning on proposing to Mitsuko _here_. He didn't think Hiroki'd noticed she was gone.

Seeing his chance to be the hero like it was written above his head in neon letters, Shinji set his now empty beer down, shoved his hands in his pockets and casually walked in the direction Takako had headed off in.

Had to play this cool, didn't want to look too eager… he hadn't been planning this or anything, nope…

Well, he hadn't been planning _this_, because only dopey Hiroki would propose marriage at _someone else's wedding reception_. But he wasn't going to get into the technicalities.

(His sister watched him go after Takako and smiled as she helped herself to an extra piece of cake. Maybe Shinji'd be the one getting married next~!)

* * *

Takako was outside, sitting on the balcony overlooking the lake, her chin resting on her bare knees. Shinji didn't remember ever seeing Takako Chigusa look this dejected. First time for everything, he supposed.

Still, she'd break his nose if he was anything less than his usual nonchalant self, so far be it from him to make any remarks on the contrary.

Takako seemed to sense his presence, and looked up, sparing him an entrance line. She frowned. "Oh. Shinji."

Shinji offered a small wave. "Yo. A little overdressed for the balcony, don't you think?" That strapless, take-no-prisoners coral-colored dress was far too beautiful to be wasted out here. (Even if it did mean he had the view all to himself.)

Takako spared him a glance before resuming her glare out at the lake. "I fancied a smoke."

"Uhh, you _don't_ smoke," Shinji pointed out. "You run marathons for fun, remember? Not a winning combination, hon."

Takako shot him a weary, helpless look. Knowing the last thing she wanted was pity, he took a seat next to her on the ground. The sanitation of his expensive pants were not a priority at the moment. "You cold?" he asked. "I'd be happy to warm you up."

"Only if you give me the article of clothing most difficult to remove," Takako answered, lips turning up at the corners a bit. "My body temperature is fine."

Shinji took that as a victory. "And as for the rest of you?"

Takako snorted. "Also fine. Feel free to ask any personal questions."

"In that case…" Shinji began teasingly. He leaned back against the wall and exhaled audibly. "Who the hell proposes at someone else's wedding?"

Takako shook her head. "I'm all right. Really. Feels kind of like... closure, I guess."

"Closure?" Shinji asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

She shrugged, staring out into the distance aimlessly. "I knew me and Hiroki were never going to happen a long time ago. But I guess I never really gave up hope." She smiled sadly. "Now there's not much to hope for, right? He's happy. That's what's important."

Shinji realized rather abruptly that he couldn't find it in himself to sympathize with her over losing Hiroki. Rather selfish on his part, particularly because he _was_ only her friend, but... he wasn't about to blow his chances with her now. Felt like this was his last chance.

Of course he didn't say any of that, instead mimicking her posture and leaning his cheek in his hand. "Hmm."

"I wonder if he's even noticed I'm gone," Takako continued. She was in no danger of crying, thankfully; he didn't think even his brilliant mind could process the idea of Takako Chigusa in tears. "I mean, I get it. Best friend starts taking the back seat to the girlfriend, fine. But he's getting _married_. It's like… absolute confirmation that he's never been interested and he never will be." She laughed humorlessly. "I sound so selfish. But it's what I'm thinking."

The thought of sitting with her and listening to her pick apart minute details—which would only make her feel worse!—sounded agonizing, and his aforementioned brilliant mind had a different idea, a much more pleasant one (for both parties involved; he was being uncharacteristically selfless for once). He turned to face her, taking her pretty hands in his own and getting to his feet.

Takako looked surprised even as she let him pull her up, tottering on her heels as she regained her balance. "Shinji, what the…"

"We're going back inside," Shinji told her.

"But I don't—"

He interrupted her. "You don't have to talk to Hiroki if you don't want to. Dance with me. Shu'll have my head if he found out I was out here, and I don't want to listen to him whining and pouting at me. Don't make me endure that."

Takako looked, for once, uncertain. He'd never seen her look so unsure of anything before, and once again wanted to sock his kind friend in the nose for unintentionally turning this girl into such a stereotype.

Time for a more familiar tactic, he reckoned. "Oi, Taka. This is a wedding. People traditionally have fun at these. Your face, lovely as it may be," he continued, tipping her chin up so she was looking at him, "looks like it belongs at a funeral. Now either you come with me and pretend to enjoy my company, or I'm going to throw you over my shoulder and kidnap you. Am I understood?"

Takako stared at him wordlessly, before snorting and pushing his hand away. "Do you know how much of a pain in the ass you are when you set your mind on something? Damn it, Shinji." But she was smiling.

"I'm told it's endearing," Shinji told her, winking and pulling her close. He could feel her breath on his lips. It was taking every ounce of his self-control not to kiss her.

Takako made a noise of protest, but didn't budge an inch. "I don't like dancing."

He reached for her hand, breaking eye contact. "I don't either. We're going to pretend."

"That sounds like so much fun, I think my heart might burst with excitement," Takako began sarcastically, but Shinji ignored the tone, squeezing her hand tighter and leading the way back inside. For all her grumbling about dancing, she was willing to hold his hands and sway to the music, even move her hips a little, which was fine by him.

* * *

Much to his approval, Takako stuck with him for the rest of the night. He might have been drinking a bit—okay, a LOT—but she hadn't minded. He had a suspicion that she wanted him to keep drinking in hopes he'd cease asking her questions about Hiroki, but now that he actually had Takako's attention, he had no intention of making her think of anyone else.

Ikumi even stopped chatting with Yukie's little brother (who was the same age as Ikumi; Shinji had had his eye on Yamada Utsumi since the kid had met his little sister) to beam approvingly at him and flash him a thumbs-up. Shinji winked and returned the favor over Takako's head.

The last bit he remembered was, during a slower song, Takako wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head against his chest. She said nothing, but she looked almost content, and it was making his insides squirm (either that or he'd had too much to drink). He'd tipped her chin up and was going to kiss her—even if it meant he'd get smacked for his troubles _or_ for being an ass taking advantage of the situation _or_ just being her rebound—and it looked like she was going to let him, closing her eyes—

—when stupid Shuuya interrupted because he wanted to play his guitar, unable to sit by and watch the band perform alone any longer. Shinji of course knew Shuuya was well in his own right to interrupt at _his own wedding_, but it was still frustrating, especially when the opportunity to kiss her didn't present itself again for the rest of the night.

He also vaguely remembered something about falling down the stairs leaving the building, using his teeth to open a beer bottle, and crying in the front seat of Takako's car, but…

* * *

"Still can't believe the only thing you found for me to wear was _this thing_," Shinji said finally, over a cup of coffee. It was amazing how much better one felt after two aspirin, extensive use of mouthwash, and coffee.

Except the pink sakura-print robe he had on wasn't exactly his idea of anything he normally would be caught dead in, but at least he was decent. Not that he minded of course, but he didn't want to torment poor Takako by forcing her to witness perfection in all of its naked glory.

"It's Hiroki's. And believe me, it's more for my sake than it is yours," Takako answered, "and the next puddle of vomit you create on my floor is the one you clean up!"

"I offered to clean up the first two," Shinji pointed out, looking put-out.

"Yeah, a real nice offer until you remember that you almost fell into it when you attempted to, Shinji. Use gravity much?" Takako replied, fidgeting in her chair. She changed the subject. "Enough about vomit. Are you hungry?"

"Did you just offer to cook for me?" Shinji asked, amused. "Can't say I mind the look, alien-pod-Takako-impersonator, but I am rather fond of the original. Can you give her back once you're done cooking?"

Takako swung a light punch at him as she got to her feet. "Only because I can't sit still for this long," she answered, putting a skillet on the stove and spraying it with vegetable oil. "I get antsy. That and I have you hostage, so you can't tell me how terrible my cooking is."

"That's up for debate," Shinji answered, laughing. He paused, something coming to mind. "Uh, Taka? My car's _not_ totaled, right? I just dreamed that?"

Takako nodded in confirmation, re-filling his coffee mug for him. "Your car's at your house. You were in the wedding party, remember? You got to ride in the limo. But when it came time to take your drunk ass home, you were too drunk to tell me where your keys were and I didn't want to leave you on your front porch. I would've asked Ikumi, but I couldn't find her," she added, adding onions, mushrooms, and green peppers to the already-sautéing chicken in the pan.

Shinji paled suddenly, remembering Ikumi's company the night before. "She had better not be with that damn Yamada or I'm going to—"

"Whoa, killer. Calm down," Takako said, looking amused, putting the cooking rice mixture aside and preparing eggs. "Big playboy Shinji Mimura's allowed to get some when he wants it, but Ikumi can't? Hardly fair."

"She's not even eighteen," Shinji protested, which admittedly was four years older than when he'd become sexually active—and really, the older he got, the grosser he thought it was that he'd first had sex at _thirteen_—but whatever. He was losing his focus here. "It's different for girls."

"Oh, I'm sure I wouldn't understand _that_, then," Takako answered, an _I dare you to keep talking_ edge to her voice, and Shinji wisely decided to drop it.

He watched Takako cook with certain interest, focusing on trying to guess what she was preparing/wondering if it was going to _poison him_ and forcing any questions as to what _they'd_ done last night out of his head.

Of course the odds of them having sex were highly unlikely. A zombie apocalypse had a better chance of happening. Takako would have kicked his ass before, during, and after. He forced the thought of fucking Takako—not to be confused with the fucking thought of Takako—out of his mind.

If she could read his thoughts now, she'd probably beat him senseless for even thinking about it… boy was he glad she wasn't a telepath. Even though it would be fun to think dirty thoughts about her, knowing she'd hear them and get angry.

"Order up," Takako said, sounding almost chirpy, interrupting his increasingly-perverted thoughts as she dropped two plates of omelet rice on the table. "I know that look. Criticize my cooking and die," she said threateningly, raising a fork menacingly.

Shinji was uncharacteristically quiet as he ate, only because talking with your mouth full was gross, and while Takako's cooking _looked_ disgusting, it was actually quite tasty (just as long as you didn't look at it while you ate, because a yellow blob topped with ketchup squirted at random was not exactly appealing). He was quite tempted to be an ass ("I didn't know you could eat zombie brains") but he could tell she wasn't her usual self, so he let it go.

"This isn't bad, Taka," he said, when the silence bypassed _uncomfortable_ and went straight to _creepy_.

Takako laughed disbelievingly. "Really? Stop kissing my ass, Shinji."

"Nah, not horrible at all. Just take the vegetables off a little sooner next time, they're a little overcooked." Shinji poked at his food a bit. "Oh, and it looks like a zombie brain, so I would suggest working on your presentation."

Takako scowled, hitting the table with her fist. He offered her a cheeky grin. He'd tried, really.

Awkward silence.

"So, now that we've eaten… can I ask you something?" Shinji asked. He would like to know how he got naked… and maybe that was an entertaining story. (He certainly hoped so.)

Takako raised an eyebrow in response but said nothing. He took that as an 'A-ok'.

"Two questions. One, where are my clothes? And two, did we…" He connected the two of them with his fork, for some reason not wanting to risk offending her with his usual turn of phrase.

"Did we _what_?" Takako asked suspiciously.

Okay he couldn't resist anymore. "You dragged me back to your place, stripped me down and had your way with me, didn't you? I hope somebody filmed it."

Takako's face went from suspicious to outraged, and she glared at Shinji (who was smiling cheekily this entire time). "No, we did not!" she snapped, scrunching her face in disgust. "Not even in your wet dreams, you _perverted_—figures you'd revert right back to your usual damn M.O. And here I thought you were gonna behave!"

"All you had to say was 'no'," Shinji said defensively. "And on that note, care to tell me how I wound up naked on your couch if we didn't have sex? I lose a few too many hands at strip poker, perhaps?"

Takako actually blushed. "You… said I wasn't cheering up fast enough. At a red light, you jumped out of the car and stood in front of where I was parked in the road, said you wouldn't move until you saw a smile. Then when some kid drove by playing loud music, you started stripping. And dancing, I think. I wouldn't call it dancing as much as I'd call it _the voices are out to get me so let me shake my dick at you_, but… you get my drift."

Shinji was horrified, but not because he'd stripped in front of Takako (he was a smart man, he knew what his advantages were). "That was my best suit. Wonderful."

"Yeah, and then you ran for it, and I ruined the heel of those shoes I was wearing because I was chasing you down, you naked weasel," Takako answered simply. "Expect the bill _to replace them_soon."

"Well in that case I deeply apologize, Takako's shoes," Shinji answered, rolling his eyes. "So I was stripping? I've done weirder things drunk. You enjoy the show?"

Takako shrugged. "Well, you look damn good naked, I'll admit that much. Any comment further risks delving into the territory of 'ass-kissing' and I don't care much for that." She frowned, getting to her feet abruptly and collecting their plates. "All right, now you've got twenty minutes to relocate yourself. Get lost, Shinji, I'm not running a bed and breakfast here."

"What? Why?" Shinji complained. "My head feels like it's going to split open. Are you expecting someone?"

Takako snorted. "Who would I be expecting? Hiroki's not likely to come home, he spent the night at Mitsuko's. Again." The annoyance in her voice could be wearing a sombrero if it wanted to be any more obvious.

"Well, they are engaged," Shinji said cautiously, watching her face for any danger signs. She turned away from him, putting the dishes in the sink.

"Takako?" he said, "Taka, talk to me. What's wrong?"

Takako turned to glare at him. "Stop asking me stupid questions."

Okay, so that _was _a stupid question. Not everything that came out of his mouth could be brilliant. (The aforementioned pile/puddle of vomit, for example.)

"What's wrong is I have an ass like you in my kitchen asking me ridiculous questions he already knows the answer to. I thought you were supposed to be smart." Takako exhaled loudly, turning and wiping her hands on a towel. "God damn it. I'm sorry, Shinji. I want a punching bag and you're just too irresistible."

"Apology accepted, weirdo. Thanks for the heads up, I am leaving before you kill me." Shinji paused. "Can I have a ride home? It's too far to walk. I'll be arrested for indecent exposure again."

Takako snorted. "Fine. I've got some errands to run, I can do those after I get rid of your sorry ass," she said, chuckling. "Can you wait ten minutes? I want a shower."

"Want some company?" Shinji offered, raising an eyebrow suggestively. Takako swung a punch at him and he chuckled. She did manage to successfully land one hit to his shoulder before disappearing down the hallway.

Shinji watched her go with a sad sort of expression. He quite wanted to grab her and shake any feelings for Hiroki right out of her system, but regardless, it was no business of his own, and he doubted she'd take too kindly to him poking his nose in her personal issues anyway. (She would kill him.)

Instead he got up and decided to at least make himself useful (and repay Takako for allowing him to crash on her couch), gathering up his dirty dishes from the sink and opening the dishwasher door.

He heard something odd coming from the direction of the bathroom, and as he closed the dishwasher and set a wash cycle, he abruptly decided to check and see if she was okay (not by opening the door, you perverts, he would _knock_. He was such a perfect gentleman). "You fall in or something, Taka?" he asked, wiping his hands on a towel.

His answer, predictably, was "I'm fine", but the choking sob that broke up the sentence was what convinced Shinji that Takako Chigusa was _not_ fine. Before quite realizing what he was doing, he opened the door to the bathroom. It wasn't even locked.

"Shinji what the hell," Takako snapped, but it lacked her usual heat. The shower was running, her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she'd impulsively grabbed a towel to cover herself when he'd burst in. No tears. Just like the kiddie shampoo.

Explanation time now, before he was the one crying (in pain, while Takako broke his limbs backwards). "I thought I heard you… crying. Even I have to make a mistake sometimes, right? Uh, enjoy your shower."

He made to beat a hasty retreat when _it happened_. The look she gave him made him freeze in his tracks. The look he'd been wanting to see on her pretty face since they'd met as junior high kids (well maybe not _that long_) was there.

The look on her face was one Shinji imagined someone who felt like the last woman on the planet would wear for an attractive man who fell from the sky. It was a I WANT YOU look, and Shinji had seen many over the years. But Takako's… he'd never even imagined he'd ever _really_ see a look like that on her face.

She swallowed nervously, not breaking eye contact with him, and the towel fell to the floor.

* * *

What a perfect place to cut the story off. Hahaha. Updates will be quick for this one! (yes I know I _always_ say that but I don't want one of you hunting me down if I wait too long to update; you know who you are)

As usual, I welcome any feedback/constructive criticism/gushing praise/bitching and whining/whatever else; stay tuned!


	2. Chapter 2

Getting riiiiiiight into the R/M-rated stuffs here.

* * *

He liked to think he was a decent guy. Decent enough to return someone's lost wallet, hire someone on an instinct when they had little to no experience, hell, his little sister had been living with him for the past five years and his divorced parents both wanted custody of her. Shinji Mimura was a decent guy.

Not decent enough to say no to this. _This_ being 'Takako, the girl he'd wanted for ages, throwing herself at him because she was horny and lonely and most likely upset about another guy'. Yes, he would prefer that in the case of Takako throwing herself at him, it was because she genuinely wanted him… but he couldn't push her away. It was like they were finally picking up where they'd left off.

Was this taking advantage of her? He figured he should be doing something, preventing some sort of friend-zone-violation, but he was too busy kissing her, letting his hands explore her curves. The least he could do was cheer her up a little. Maybe if he was lucky she wouldn't kill himfor this.

Shoving those unpleasant rational thoughts to the back of his mind where they belonged, he shoved _her_ against the wall properly, getting a leg between her thighs and kissing her fiercely as she pressed herself against him and ran her fingers through his hair.

Had she even done this before? Was that even possible?

She was really going to kill him.

Takako horny was the same as Takako angry. Well, he supposed it was all passion, stemming from the same section of the brain, but either way he was probably going to be dead as a result of _this_, this being _fucking her_. And he didn't care. Best to go out with a bang, really. (No lame pun intended.)

The idea of pounding her into the wall was unbelievably tempting, but he wanted in her bed. He did not want to _shower_ Takako Chigusa, he wanted to _bed_ Takako Chigusa. She deserved nothing less, and there would always be time for the shower later. Everything but the kitchen sink. (And the kitchen sink too.)

_Putting the cart a bit before the horse there, Mim,_ his subconscious chided him, even as Takako dug her French tipped nails into his back so hard he was sure he'd have eight little marks there later (he did not care). He kissed her again as she cradled his upper leg between her thighs, making strained sounds. He seesawed his knee back and forth in response, causing her to toss her head back in pleasure. Her naked body squirming against his was so damn distracting he had to get out and get into her room, like right now.

His quick thinking saved him as he scooped her up in his arms, smothering her lips with his own to muffle her protests (Takako hated being lifted), and they stumbled into her bedroom kissing like crazy people while she ripped Hiroki's pink robe right off Shinji's broad shoulders, her hands fumbling across his chest as she molested his lean muscles.

They landed on the bed in a pile of limbs, both squirming to try and topple the other without breaking their kiss, and when they finally separated to gasp for breath, Takako straddled his hips and asked him for a condom, which he of course didn't have since he'd arrived in this apartment as naked as he currently was. She'd given him another disgusted look and Shinji thought she was going to retract her offer again, when he came to the conclusion that Takako Chigusa was a demanding little thing and she needed to be taught some manners.

He'd proceeded to shove her over on her back and pull her legs over his hips, and her eyes got round with surprise and probably some terror too. Shinji knew from knowing her for so long that Takako's romantic encounters with men were few and far between, what with her cheery disposition and absolutely sunny outlook on life. (Sarcasm fully intended.)

But like he suspected, she'd never done _this_ before, and she looked awfully worried all of a sudden, biting her bottom lip in such a way that the sight made him groan.

God damn it he did not want to be the bigger person here, he wanted to fuck her. He frowned at her, nudging her entrance pointedly with his erection, gave her his best pleading expression, and she'd squirmed against him before regaining her composure and huffing with annoyance. "It can't hurt too much, you're not _that_ big," she muttered.

She grinned, batting her long lashes innocently as he narrowed his eyes at her. Oh, that did it. He was going to enjoy this far more than he should.

He kissed her again to distract himself from the feeling of her squirming underneath him as she tried to get comfortable. Her arms were under his, her hands grabbing his shoulders, her legs on either side of his hips, her eyes mentally pleading with him to be good to her. She was counting on him to treat her right, and, well, Shinji Mimura was not in the business of disappointing a pretty woman (especially one he'd been wanting for so damn long). He didn't know if he should stop, now, before he absolutely lost the ability to do so, or…

"Please, Shinji," Takako managed, raising her hips. "You, inside me, now!"

Then she went and said stuff like that which made him want to shove her against the wall again. Regardless, he shook his head, kissed her once more and gently, slowly, pushed inside her with a quick hitch of his breath.

"Oh, my god," Takako groaned, wrapping her arms around Shinji's neck, squeezing his sides with her knees, "how have we not done this before—"

"Fucked if I know. You all right?" Shinji managed, because holding still here was absolutely killing him—

Takako sighed and raised her head to his shoulder. He couldn't help but be pleased, now; he'd completely erased all the snarky remarks from her head. She shifted her hips beneath his experimentally, causing them both to suck in their breath, before she looked up at him and nodded reassuringly.

"Fuck me," she ordered, a small smile on her face.

Shinji nodded in response, grinned, and there were no more words for a while.

(Except for the profanity. Because Takako swore like a sailor during sex.)

* * *

She was quiet, and he was too blissfully exhausted to say much himself. He was only a cuddly type in the rarest of occasions and he would have thought the same for Takako (even though he _was_ the first guy she'd ever been with—arguably one of the best discoveries he'd ever made in twenty-six years of life). But his arm was around her shoulders and she was using his sweaty, heaving chest as her pillow, and he was quite content to stay there for the rest of the day. Month, even.

She laughed suddenly, interrupting the quiet, and he turned his head to look at her, an amused smile on his face. "What's so funny?"

Takako rolled over so she was lying on top of him, resting her chin on his shoulder as she looked at him. "We just had sex."

"I know," Shinji agreed.

"And it was awesome." Takako paused.

"I know. Am I good or am I good?"

"You're _good_."

A pause.

"You okay?"

Takako smiled thoughtfully. "Yeah. I am." She laid her head back down, on top of him, and their companionable silence resumed.

She was taking this rather well. Shinji took that to mean she was, in fact, happy with the circumstances. She would not be regretting this. It made him break out into something of a silly grin.

Then she jabbed him in the stomach and he grunted. "What?"

"You're not listening to me."

"Of course I'm not." She hit him again. "_What_, woman? Would you rather I lied to you?"

"No, I would rather you listened to me." Takako narrowed her eyes threateningly and laid her head back down on top of him. "This didn't change anything, did it?"

Shinji abruptly felt a sharp pain in his chest, but rather than sitting up and shouting at her, he took the high road. "Of course not. But… we're not pretending this never happened."

Takako looked at him again. "Or that it won't happen again."

Shinji looked back at her, his expression a mix of barely-contained glee and surprise. "You think it's gonna happen again?" She was _going_ to let it happen again? Best day ever.

She sat up and grinned at him, touching his chest with her free hand. "You tell me."

"I can't believe you've gone twenty-five years without sex, Taka. No wonder you're so cranky."

Takako sat up and punched him in the balls, which made him yelp with pain. "Ass," she muttered.

Shinji waited until the tears of pain in his eyes went away before continuing. "I just wish you'd said something sooner, your ol' pal Shinji would've been more than happy to—"

Takako shoved him off the bed, cutting him off quite effectively.

He leaned his elbows and chin back on the bed, frowning at her. "Stop trying to kill the mood."

She smiled sweetly at him, always a terrifying sight. "I'm trying to kill _you_. The mood is just necessary collateral damage."

"Oh for fuck's sake. Should I just jump out of the window and spare you the jail sentence?"

"No." She bit her lip. "Get back up here, Shinji. I think I'm horny again."

"Hurting me makes you horny," Shinji repeated.

* * *

Takako groaned, pushing Shinji's hand away from between her thighs. "Stop it, I'm sore."

"No wonder. You're using muscles you never knew you had." He took his hands off her and offered her his arms in a hug gesture. Takako snorted, but scooted back into their original position again, her head on his chest and her arm around his waist.

"You never answered me," he said after a moment, his free hand briefly pausing from stroking the length of her body to trace circles on her shoulder.

Takako sighed. "Cuddling _and_emotional discussions? Do you always get girly after or am I just the exception?"

Shinji ignored that. "Why did you wait so long?"

Takako glared at him, scooting away from him and pulling a blanket over herself in false modesty. "Sex is actually kind of a big deal to some of us."

That didn't explain why she'd suddenly decided to throw herself at him after a quarter of a century of abstinence, but it wasn't like he was going to understand anyway. He shrugged and joined her under the blanket, getting his arm around her waist and laying his head on her shoulder.

"Get off, you're sweaty!" She made no effort to move (she liked his breath on her ear).

"So are you. Get over it."

Takako just sighed. "Shut up and do what you're good at," she said, turning Shinji's face towards her own and kissing him softly. Shinji let his eyes fall closed, his lips moving against hers as gently as he could manage. He'd fuck her senseless any day of the week, but he couldn't help but wonder just what was making her so sad, and where exactly he fit into all of it.

* * *

Normally scene breaks represented having sex, but they hadn't done anything but lie in bed aimlessly for the past hour and a half. It was kind of like what they used to do when they were younger, except they were naked.

"I never got to take my shower," said Takako out of the blue, picking at the blanket covering them both in distaste.

Shinji turned his head to look at her. "Want some company?" he asked, running his fingers through her long hair.

Takako elbowed him in the ribs, making him groan. Then she supposed to re-think it. "Well, I suppose."

"Actually, I think I'm going to pass. I can't move my legs."

Takako grinned. "Wore you out, did I? Ha!"

Shinji hit her with her pillow. "I did all the work, you just got to have all the fun. Shove it."

Takako groaned in weak protest. "We can't just lie in bed all day. Budge up, you useless thing."

"Then you should throw me out, because I'm perfectly content to just lie here all day."

Takako actually started laughing. "Does that line work with other girls?" she asked, snickering.

Shinji snorted. "You think I _stay_ with other girls?"

That shut her up.

"Well, for what it's worth, I don't want you to leave," Takako said finally.

"Then I'll stay," Shinji told her. "And you have the most retarded laugh I've ever heard. Probably because it's only been used three times in twenty-five years—ow!"

She shoved him off the bed again. "Now you are leaving, you _ass_."

* * *

The ride home was interesting. Takako had refused to let him in the car naked (even after he'd pointed out that he'd ridden to her apartment naked in the first place) so she'd made him wear a towel instead.

Neither spoke; Takako knew the way to Shinji's house, and Shinji really didn't want to distract her and cause a car wreck (he did not have clothes on, and Sho Tsukioka was still an active member of the Shiroiwa Police).

(His pants—and the rest of his clothes—were still at the intersection where he'd left them; Takako had to chase a homeless man away from them, and Shinji had been able to grab them and run back into the car before the little girls playing in the nearby park could scream "PERVERT" loud enough for any adults to hear.)

"Aren't you going to… put those back on?" Takako asked, eying the pile of clothes in Shinji's lap.

"No, I am not."

Takako rolled her eyes and started her car back up again.

Shinji was beyond relieved to see his expensive car (name withheld because the narration is not paid to endorse and/or advertise expensive luxury cars) had _not_ been totaled, and was just some nightmare fetish fuel his brain threw at him to make him stop drinking. (Nice try.)

He was currently racking his extensive brains to think of something to say to Takako once she stopped the car; she'd been quiet too, which wasn't too uncommon for her (she was a fan of _companionable silence_). He didn't even want to say goodbye to her; he wanted pull her into the backseat and go for a fourth round, but he did not think that'd be well-appreciated.

"Well, here we are," said Takako, interrupting him from his thoughts.

"All right then," said Shinji, clearing his throat because he thought his voice sounded strange. "Um…. Congratulations, I guess." Congratulations? Really, Mim?

Takako narrowed her eyes. "_Congratulations_? For what, sleeping with you?"  
_  
_Shinji shrugged. "It's open for interpretation!" He wisely decided to jump out when Takako's expression (of angry) had yet to change. "Hope you don't have any trouble walking," he added, smirking at her, and she auto-locked the door before grabbing his arm.

She had him trapped. He hedged a glance at her and while she no longer looked pissed, she looked…

"Don't tell anyone about this," Takako said, staring at the steering wheel.

"Here I was about to rent a billboard," Shinji began, when he paused. "By 'don't tell anyone', you mean…"

"Anyone," Takako repeated, squeezing his arm, looking at him almost pleadingly. "I don't know what your usual M.O. is after this sort of thing—"

"_What_ sort of thing?" Shinji asked, now completely confused.

"I don't want it getting around that we slept together. We have the same friends, I don't want them… you know."

Shinji was annoyed, but did not show it. "Yeah, all right, I suppose."

Takako looked relieved. "It's just easier that way. Right?"

"Definitely. Wouldn't want our friends knowing we hooked up. Because they're going to get so offended about it. And then they'll probably choose sides. Wouldn't that be awkward? I mean, that is, if they even care. Which they won't, because we're not sixteen."

There was a baaaaaad feeling churning in his stomach, and it was not vomit this time. It felt like his internal organs were tying themselves in knots.

"It's not that I think they'll care, it's…" Takako trailed off.

That knot in his stomach tightened. "The hell do you think I'm going to do, call Shu on his honeymoon? _Hey man, Takako finally let me nail her_?"

Why was it always like this with her? She'd take a huge step forward, like letting him kiss her back in high school, or sleeping with him now—and then she'd retreat back into her little shell and insist on not wanting to ruin a friendship. And now she wasn't saying anything.

"What are you doing right now?" she asked, sounding annoyed.

"Is this about me?" Shinji asked, suddenly feeling quite insulted.

"Stop jumping to conclusions, I never said that!" answered Takako, looking confused. "What the hell is your problem, Shinji?"

He was angry and humiliated and he knew he was going off on her, but quite frankly he did not care. "Nothing. Fine, I'll be your little throwaway. Sorry you decided to toss your precious virtue at me, Takako, I should've known better and stopped you."

"No, I… Shinji, shut the hell up and listen to me!"

He shut up, gesturing for her to continue, his lips a tight line. Boy was he pissed.

"It's not that it was with you," Takako said finally, looking embarrassed. "We were both sober, it was my idea, if I didn't want to I would've thrown you out on your ass."

Shinji knew enough about Takako to accept that. It was definitely true.

"I _don't _want people thinking I got upset over—well, the _you-know-what_—and we did something. If… and I mean that as a very optimistic if… if we ever… become something more serious… then I want it to be for the right reasons. Does that make sense?" She was glaring at the steering wheel now, clearly wanting to avoid eye contact. "I mean, I always thought it was kind of inevitable that _something_ was going to happen, with us."

"Actually, that's just what I wanted to hear. Instead of a one-night-stand, it was a… preview of things to come," said Shinji. "In which case…"

"Don't get all excited," Takako said warningly. "For all you know, I'm just lying to make you feel better, Mimura."

Shinji nodded. "You got it. In which case, I will _not_ be seeing you around." He winked.

Takako grinned. "_Don't_ count on it, Mimura. Now beat it."

Shinji nodded once more, and made to get out… but not before he turned back towards Takako, grabbed her surprised face in his hands, and kissed her.

* * *

Drinking game time: take a drink whenever Takako hits Shinji!


	3. Chapter 3

I HAVE NOT ABANDONED THIS STORY

* * *

It had been eight days. Eight days since Takako had hedged around the theoretical possibility of a hypothetical relationship, and he'd kissed her goodbye thinking he had that to look forward to.

He was beginning to hope she'd been abducted by aliens. Or she'd sent him a letter explaining her feelings via carrier pigeon. Or Hogwarts owl. Or hot air balloon.

Anything would be better than what he knew was the real problem. She was embarrassed about impulsively sleeping with him (three times) and was trying to pretend it didn't happen.

But it had happened. (Three times.)

He stared disinterestedly at his computer screen, aware his latest program had more bugs than it did fixes, but he was so disconnected from what he was doing he couldn't think of a way to repair it. The pen he'd been chewing on cracked suddenly, and he sighed, wiping black ink from his lips and making a face.

Usually when he got like this, he'd go to the gym, block off the basketball court until only he could get in, and shoot hoops until either he felt better or his damn knee couldn't keep him up any longer.

Or he'd just get laid, but that didn't seem all that appealing _now_…

Damn it, and he still had those income statements to fill out too. He detested the beginning of the fiscal year, since it put his accountants in a bad mood, and when Accounting was grouchy, everyone was.

Shinji had always believed Valentine's Day was created to pick up a slump in the economy in the beginning of a slow 2nd quarter. He now felt like absolute crap and was even less a fan of Valentine's Day—and eventually White Day, when it rolled around in March—and anything else that was tied into this stupid holiday than he could ever remember being.

_Bitter much, Mim_? He snorted to himself and glared at the pile of income tax documents piled on his desk.

Screw it, he had a date with a basketball hoop, and since he'd just promptly remembered he was the boss, he was going to make an executive decision. He reached for his phone. "Hey, Hisakawa. I've got an, ah, meeting coming up. Skype-chat. Don't let anyone in here."

"Okay? But I'm not at reception, why don't you call—"

"Don't give me that tone. I can trust only you with this mission. I'm locking the door as it is, I am just trying to put up a preemptive strike against bitching and whining." He hung up the phone, pushed himself up out of his chair, and made a beeline for the largest window.

Okay, so he was on the twelfth floor of the building, but he could easily inch across the cement bollards ringing the building to the empty suite next door, open the window, sneak in, and take the service elevator down to his car. (It sounded ridiculous, but he had actually pulled this off twelve times.)

He already had a leg out the window when his cell phone rang. "Shuuya, I swear to God," he said to himself (because the unemployed rock star was the only person Shinji knew who had no understanding of _working hours_), extracting his cell phone from his pocket and answering without looking at it. "Hello, Shinji Mimura speaking—"

"Shinji, hey."

"Hey yourself," Shinji answered, so surprised he almost dropped his phone out the window. His mouth began to form the words 'what's up' when his brain shouted 'WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN', and he ended up just closing his mouth. Probably for the best.

She was as brusque as always. "Are you at your office?"

Shinji glanced at his leg out the window. "About 75 percent there. What's up?"

"I'm coming over."

Takako had never come to see him at work before. This probably was not good. Plus if she dropped by, people would start asking questions. "Uhm, it's the middle of the work day, darlin'. You sure you don't want to just come by after?"

"No, I'm in the area and some of us have to work later. See you in twenty minutes." She was not, nor had she ever been, the type to end a phone conversation with "goodbye".

Shinji looked at his phone, and made a face. Well, looks like he couldn't escape now. Unless of course he hid under his desk, which occurred to him as a necessary precaution. She didn't sound angry, but you could never really tell with Takako Chigusa.

He sat back down in his chair and reached for his office phone.

His number two's annoyed tone greeted him. "Shinji how am I supposed to get any work done when you keep calling with secret missions?"

"Never happy to hear from me. There is really no easy way to say this, so I won't beat around the bush. A deranged woman is on her way here, probably to kill me. So whatever you do, do not let her in here."

Hisakawa sounded incredulous. "Don't rope me into this!"

"I'd do it for you, your dedication has been noted and appreciated." He hung up the phone quickly and scowled at the paperwork scattering his desk. Being annoyed with Takako was no reason to turn into a slob, he told himself, reaching for a particularly messy pile with renewed energy.

* * *

Punctual to a fault, Takako arrived twenty minutes later exactly. Shinji was crumpling old documents and shooting trash-basket hoops from his desk when he heard a knock on his office door.

"Umm, he's in a meeting," said someone outside.

"Not anymore. Shinji, let me in!"

Shinji tapped the button on his desk that automatically opened his office door (sure was nice being a genius). "It's open," he said, quickly making himself (look) busy, as Takako Chigusa walked into his office.

"Whoa, been a while since I've been in here," she commented, looking around the well-furnished room, closing the door behind her. "I guess it pays to be a big-shot company founder, huh?"

"There are some perks to the job," Shinji agreed, sitting back in his fancy executive desk chair and studying her. She was sexy as hell regardless of what she was wearing (especially wearing nothing at all—DAMMIT, MIMURA) and right now she was taking off her long cream-colored coat and scarf, showing off a black sweater, gray skirt, and black heels, a winning combination that did quite the job of enhancing her natural assets.

He smirked to himself. Daaaaamn but he was in trouble here, wasn't he. His only distraction was how… nervous she looked.

She spotted something on the floor that caused her expression to brighten, and she bent over (Shinji trying not to swallow too noticeably at the sight), retrieving a crumpled paper ball. Shinji recognized it instantly—the bastard had bounced off the rim of the can and rolled away. "What's this? Basketball ace missed a shot?"

"One out of roughly a hundred," Shinji answered, aware he sounded defensive. He cleared his throat abruptly. "Not to imply you're anything less than welcome here, but did you… want something?"

"I was in the neighborhood, give or take a few miles," Takako began lightly, dropping her purse in a visitor's chair across from his desk and taking a seat in its twin, crossing her legs and examining the ends of her caramel-colored hair (he had no idea what her natural color even _was_). "Thought I'd drop by, say hello…"

"Hello," Shinji answered, pulling up something on his computer so he looked the part of a busy executive (_Plants vs Zombies_, first thing he could think of). (The pile of income tax documents remained untouched.) His genius brain couldn't think of anything to say, and Takako just sat there fidgeting and staring at her nails. It was awkward.

"I've been thinking," Takako began hesitantly. "I should have called you or something, Shinji. This whole not talking thing is bizarre."

Shinji actually looked away from his plants (his poor Peashooters were going to be devoured, he did not care). He smiled. "Yeah, I was thinking much the same. Glad to see you come crawling back, Chigusa."

Takako scowled. "Shut up, Mimura."

Shinji had to laugh. "Only joking," he said, shaking his head. "Anyway, considering _you're_ the one who lunged after me in a fit of lust…"

"Shut the hell up!" Takako protested, blushing.

Shinji shrugged and glanced back at his screen. "Fuck," he said, scowling at the zombies devouring his plants.

"What?" Takako asked, blinking.

"Company stocks just plummeted," he lied quickly, collecting sun.

Takako narrowed her eyes, her hand shooting out towards his flat-screen computer monitor and tilting it towards her. "Plants vs Zombies?" She narrowed her eyes at his winning smile (his charms had no effect on her, never had and never would).

He shrugged innocently. "You just want to have a long dragged out discussion about _your feelings _and _shoes _and other girly things, I apologize sincerely for tuning you out in advance." Takako slammed her hands on his desk threateningly, and he held up his hands in surrender. "All right, calm down, a thousand pardons! You have my full attention."

Takako glared at him and sat back down. "You suck. Nice to know I'm trying to talk about our friendship here and you'd rather screw around and play games."

It came out before he could stop it. "You haven't said a word to me for eight days, and I'm the one who sucks? I'm the one not concerned when you've been avoiding my calls?"

Takako looked momentarily stunned. Then her expression changed to one much more familiar to Shinji—_rage_, and she shoved his computer screen back at him.

"Yeah, fuck me, right? Excuse me for not knowing what the fuck to say to you," Takako said crossly, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs with _anger_. "I didn't know what the hell you wanted, I thought you'd be calling me up to make fun of me. Or you thought I was a slut."

Shinji reached for a stack of paperwork to flip through, glancing up at her and shaking his head, unable to keep from laughing at her. "Taka, it happens. You were lonely, I was there. Kinda lonely myself, too, if we're going full disclosure here." He shrugged his shoulders, tapping his pen against the stack and avoiding her eye. "Might as well sweep it under the rug and act like it didn't happen." Oh how he _hated_ saying that.

"But… I don't want to sweep it under the rug," Takako answered, staring at the ground determinedly.

Shinji dropped the pen he'd been absentmindedly twirling. "You what?"

She looked annoyed. "Don't make me repeat myself! I mean, if we can do it once we can do it again, right?"

He hadn't realized he was staring at her in complete surprise until she stood up and smacked him (lightly) on the forehead. "Did I break you? Hey!"

"You mean… fuck-buddies?" No, that wasn't it. "Friends with benefits?"

"How many precedents can they possibly have for this?" Takako asked, looking shocked. "Is it in the dictionary?"

Shinji smiled. "Yeah, probably. But are you sure about this?"

"When did you become such a girl?" Takako asked, rolling her eyes. "Yes, Shinji, I'm sure. Don't make me go down on my knees."

"This isn't going to somehow come back and bite me in the ass?" Shinji asked suspiciously.

Takako raised an eyebrow. "Draw up a contract then. I don't care." She frowned a little. "Just don't be an asshole to me, or I will kill you." She fisted a hand in her hair impatiently. "It always looks so much easier in the movies. They never mention the awkward pauses between the sexy repartee."

Shinji had to chuckle. "I'm so glad we can be open with each other. And as for your terms… yeah, you got it, Taka." He watched her fidget with some amusement before he had an idea. "C'mere."

Takako actually blushed. "Right now? A-are you serious!?"

Shinji nodded, leaning back in his chair and smirking at her. "Unless you can't handle it."

Takako scowled. "Can't handle _what_?" she scoffed, standing up, taking her sweater off and dropping it on his desk, stepping out of her skirt.

He had to snicker at the sight of her panties— pink cotton string bikinis. "You still buy your underwear in packs of six?" he teased. The thought that Takako probably never had reason to buy sexy underwear for a boyfriend occurred to him, and he found it was a happy thought.

"Shove it," Takako answered, bunching up her panties at her ankles and throwing them at him. "Unlike your dumb easy job, I actually have to run around _saving lives_. A thong jammed up my ass would interfere with that."

He let his hands rest on her hips, stepping closer to her and smirking as she started undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. "Hey," he said, and when she looked up at him, distracted with his shirt, he caught her lips in a kiss. Takako was at the point where she was so horny she'd probably let him do anything, evident when he reached behind her and unsnapped her bra at the same time she finally got his shirt off.

Her hands were on his chest and he was wondering if she'd ride him on his desk chair when she'd pulled away from his mouth and grinned at him, tilting her head towards his desk.

"Let's do it there. I want to fuck on your desk so every time you're sitting here thinking about work or whatever, you'll think about fucking me instead." Takako grinned, inexperienced fingers fumbling to open his pants, clearly amazed at her own raunchiness. (She was glad it was Shinji, too. She felt comfortable enough around him to really let loose. It also helped that they were both hyper-competitive and he was a horny pervert.)

He waited until she was done and for his pants to fall down (she'd grabbed a handful of them and pulled, unsatisfied with the speed of gravity) to pick her up under her thighs. "You got it," he told her, kissing her quickly. Takako got her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss and he was grateful he knew the office like the back of his hand as he set her on the right side of his big desk, where his computer wasn't.

She grinned up at him, parting her legs so he could step between them. Except instead of the beautiful woman he was noticing something else… The neatly-stacked piles of paperwork were right next to where he'd laid Takako down, and when she spread her legs for him she'd come dangerously close to knocking them over.

"Can you not mess my stuff up? That took twenty minutes to sort."

Takako grinned widely. Shinji knew what she was going to do five minutes before she did it.

"No! Dammit Taka—" And now all his neatly-stacked piles were on the floor.

"You mad?" Takako asked, tilting her head so her long hair spilled over her shoulder. "Come and get me."

Exactly why was he getting so worked up over paperwork when there was a beautiful woman on his desk waiting to be ravished was quite beyond him.

* * *

"You see that girl going into Shinji's office?"

"Who _didn't _see her? Any idea who she is?"

"Probably his girlfriend. Lucky bastard."

"I kind of always thought he was gay…"

Then there was a sudden sound, the kind of sound that was only audible when a piece of furniture was shoved forward on a carpet. Then there was the loud unmistakable sound of a woman moaning (then very quickly muffling the sound).

Several employees exchanged looks.

"Explains that, then."

"Guess you can't nail him now…"

"Shut the hell up!"

* * *

"Mmmmmph," Takako moaned, voice muffled because Shinji had covered her mouth with his hand. He moved slowly and tauntingly (also trying to make as little noise as possible) until she lost patience, grabbing his hips and slamming them into her own, which made him suck his breath in between his teeth while Takako just squirmed underneath him.

He was vaguely aware his phone was ringing. Takako reached to hang it up with her free hand, he grabbed her hand and shook his head, before pushing her back further so she was lying down and pulling her legs up, thrusting harder.

She was making a racket again, clamping her hands over her mouth and squeezing her eyes closed. It was a delicate balance, fucking her as hard as she wanted _and _trying to avoid knocking everything off of his desk _and _keeping quiet, and Takako was so green she didn't appreciate any of it just as long as she got the orgasm she'd come for (pun!).

"Hurry up," Takako ordered through gritted teeth, glaring at him.

"We're back to—angry sex now?" He was aware he was panting, and he was glad Takako had pulled his shirt off because sweat was pouring down his back.

Takako nodded, bucking her hips against his even as he pulled her up so she was sitting. "This is not very comfortable, Mimura, there's a staple in my back!"

* * *

"This is absolutely disgusting."

"He's the boss. Besides pretty sure everyone's wanted to fuck at work at least once."

"Well I haven't."

"That explains why you're so uptight…"

* * *

Shinji made a mental note to lower the temperature in the room by several degrees before Takako came a-callin' again. Lying in a sweaty pile with his desk calendar sticking to his back was not the most entertaining sensation he'd experienced.

Takako picked her head up and exhaled, blowing a piece of her now-disheveled hair from her face. "Ugh."

"_Ugh_?"

She hit him. "You know what I meant."

"Better the second time?" He did some quick math. "Er, _sixth _time?"

Takako nodded, her grin almost feral. "I suppose. Aren't you supposed to be _good_at this? I'm on top next time."

_Next time_. He liked the sound of that. Instead he shook his head. "You're not good enough yet, you'll fall right off. Then where will we be?"

Takako frowned. "I guess I need more practice, then," she said, a _Challenge Accepted_ expression crossing her pretty face. "You make it sound like riding you would be _hard_."

She was going to be the death of him. She was going to give him that sexy look and he'd have a heart attack from excitement and die the happiest man alive. And now apparently this was going to become a regular thing.

He shook those distracting rather annoying thoughts from his mind to instead get Takako off (his _desk_; he'd already gotten her off _once_). The clearer his mind got, the more bothered he was by the paperwork strewn across the floor.

"Why is it so quiet outside?" she asked. "Are they listening to us?"

"Probably." Shinji didn't care.

She grinned, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him closer. "I'm giving you a hickey. If those nosy bastards are going to listen then I'm going to give them a show, god damn it."

Then his phone rang, and he stopped Takako's advance by covering her mouth with his hand.

Takako narrowed her eyes at him as he reached over her. He answered, and if he'd ever doubted his ability to hold a calm, professional conversation with a client post-coital with a naked woman curled up in his lap, he would've impressed himself. (However this had happened before, so the point was moot.)

"Make the sale?" she asked, once he'd hung up.

"Sure did." He kissed her shoulder. "No thanks to you squirming about."

She laughed, and grabbed his chin to tip his face back towards hers. "Oh, like you didn't enjoy it."

He had to admit, it wasn't the way he'd thought he'd get Takako... but she never had been conventional. And neither had he, really.

At least until they'd both gotten dressed, and were facing each other. He supposed he should just say goodbye the same way he'd always had before they'd had sex, but any flirty gestures seemed way too forward and if he was too casual she'd think she didn't mean anything to him and get angry that he'd just treated her like a fling. She looked lost, he figured he probably wore a similar expression as they stared blankly at one another.

"Well, uh, bye." This was awkward. They both leaned in for a kiss, seemed to rethink it, pulled back, awkwardly held their arms out for a hug, realized they _never_ hugged goodbye unless someone died, and finally settled for a… high five. Then they both stared at each other.

"Oh for the love of God, this is ridiculous," Takako said, sounding exasperated.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck, she was leaving—

"Want to grab dinner later?" Shinji offered.

Takako looked surprised. He clarified, hoping his smile didn't look too forced. "As friends, Chigusa. Relax."

"Yes, I do want to get food later," said Takako, still looking like her mind was hurting trying to process this, "but we're splitting the bill, Mimura. Can't have you thinking I put out for my meals."

Shinji chuckled, sitting back in his desk chair. "7:30 sound good?"

Takako scrunched her nose up. "I've got a 9PM shift at the hospital... so we'll just have to make this a fast meal." She winked, turned on her heel (her big heel which made her legs look even longer) and left.

Shinji's eyes stayed glued on her hips until the door closure finally swung the door shut, and he snapped out of it, not even realizing he was rolling his earring between his fingers. He only did that when he was deep in thought about something, and apparently Takako could still get that reaction out of him.

This might be the mutual best idea they had ever had.

(His employees watched Takako leave, and began to plan for their _strike_.)

* * *

I HAVE NOT ABANDONED THIS STORY

/immediately gets to work on chapter 4


	4. Chapter 4

Because I am a horrible miserable birthday forgetter X( I BEG YOUR FORGIVENESS KASSANDRA I'M SO SORRY

* * *

She was late. Absolutely, totally late. At least twenty minutes.

"Sir, if your acquaintance doesn't show up, we're going to need to give your table to someone else," said the waiter, looking strained.

Shinji shook his head. "She'll be here," he insisted, checking his phone.

She was totally standing him up, wasn't she? He was going to sit here like an idiot, waiting for her to show up, when she was probably in the half-empty apartment she shared with Hiroki, nervously pacing wondering whether or not she'd made the dumbest decision of her life sleeping with him again.

Fuck. This did not bode well. The waiter had turned to leave; instinctively he asked the waiter to add a shot of bourbon to his Coke. No, a double shot.

"Sir, can't you just relocate to the bar," the waiter pleaded.

Shinji allowed a flicker of annoyance to cross his face. "I will give you the greatest tip known to mankind if you just let me keep this table for another fifteen minutes. She's coming, I know she is."

The waiter looked tense. "Fine." He hadn't been gone for five seconds before that familiar head of auburn-colored hair burst through the door, and he watched in mild amusement as she looked around for him.

Maybe he should hide under the table, make her see how annoying it was to wait for someone and wonder if _she'd _been stood up—except then she spotted him, and her face lit up.

That was not the face of someone who did not want to be spending time with him.

"I'm sorry I'm late, I had to get gas," said Takako as she approached, taking a folded receipt out of her purse and sticking it in his face.

Shinji batted it away. "And why the hell do I want to see your receipt?"

"This way you know I'm not lying to cover my ass," said Takako, shrugging, and Shinji didn't think he'd ever wanted to kiss her senseless more in his life. "You order yet?"

"No, just a—"

"Your double-bourbon-and-Coke, sir," said the waiter, smirking ear to ear as he placed the drink down on a coaster.

Takako raised an eyebrow. "Drinking alone, huh?"

Shinji's blush had absolutely nothing to do with the waiter smirking at him. "I'm thirsty," was his lame defense.

"Well, okay," said Takako, looking amused. "I'll have an iced tea," she said to the waiter, who nodded, still smirking at Shinji.

"I told you she was coming," said Shinji indifferently, reaching for his drink. The waiter just snickered and left.

* * *

Talking about their lives had been weird, because the only thing he was thinking about was what she looked like naked. The way she was acting made him suspect she was having similar thoughts.

It was becoming very obvious that this was _not_ a date. Shinji was not surprised, as he expected resistance and quite frankly would've assumed Takako was an alien imposter had she agreed to go out with him _that_ easily.

She's gotten into the subject of working, because she usually seemed to be, and when she said that she worked too much to ever consider being in a relationship, he stopped listening and spoke up.

"So… that's why this isn't a date? No time for a relationship?" he asked.

Takako frowned. "There are many reasons as to why this isn't a date. Reason number one, you're Shinji Mimura and I'm Takako Chigusa. The universe would collapse upon itself were we to _date_."

Shinji's expression apparently gave away what he thought of _that_, and Takako sighed. "Not what I meant, Mim. I meant… Shinji and Takako, going to the movies? Shinji and Takako, holding hands?"

The idea of commitment usually made fear shoot through his spine, but Takako's hands were small and soft and he actually could imagine holding one as they went somewhere. Or slinging his arm around her shoulder as they watched a movie, while she either snored into his shoulder or complained about what _she_ would do, were she the main character.

But as usual she was being stubborn. And annoying. And making big deals out of problems that did not even exist.

The things he endured for this girl.

"I'm getting confused," Shinji complained, "and that is rare, for me. Just—tell me what the hell you want from me, Takako. You don't want this to be some casual thing, but at the same time, I ask you out and you recoil. So what's left, then? Leave town? Act like this never happened?"

"I'm just going to be completely honest," said Takako slowly, setting her glass of iced tea down and looking across the table at Shinji, meeting his eyes. "I don't want to be your girlfriend. I'm not really ready for a relationship right now. And it's not… just about work. I'm kind of a mess right now. I don't think it'd be fair to you to have to put up with all of it."

Shinji had to agree with this. If he was going to commit to a woman, he wanted to at least know she was committed to him too. "All right then," he said easily, "I guess that's the answer to my question, then."

Takako raised an eyebrow. "What question? I'm not done."

"Oh." Shinji blinked and nodded.

"Another thing. If I wanted to be with someone… well, I mean, we've had this discussion before. I'm really not against the idea of us getting together _eventually_. I just don't want people thinking I jumped in your pants because of… well, you know."

"Hon, you do know that, aside from myself, nobody we know still thinks you feel anything for Hiroki at all?"

"I know what you're doing," Takako said, pointing her fork at him accusingly, "you're telling me what I want to hear so you can get in my pants."

"And why would I put forth that much effort when I can probably get into your pants just by asking politely?" Shinji asked. "You owe me anyway."

Takako made a face, obviously stumped. Shinji beamed innocently at her. "Besides, even if you did have a thing for him, moving onto _me_ would only be a trade-up…"

"Oh get over yourself," Takako grumbled, looking annoyed; but the food arrived before Shinji could continue, and he lost Takako's attention for the rest of the evening.

"Food," said Takako, with a kind of groan of longing, and she pulled her plate towards her.

"Need a refill on that _Coke_?" the smirking waiter asked Shinji, who glanced at him, grateful for a reason to turn away from Takako, who was now devouring her food with almost indecent enthusiasm.

"Extra bourbon," Shinji muttered, hedging a glance at the pretty woman shoveling food into her mouth like she was expecting it to be stolen away from her. "So I take it you're not going to let me get a bite of that?"

Takako looked at him. "Gluhb?"

Her mouth was so full Shinji thought it was quite an achievement that she was able to make any noise at all.

He merely shook his head, leaning back in his chair. "You're eating like a baby dinosaur. You don't even chew."

Takako gave an enormous swallow and reached for her iced tea, taking a few long gulps. "I'm hungry. I worked a 36-hour-shift yesterday and I've been running errands all day. I also hate cooking, but you know that already."

Shinji laughed. "You wear heels when you run errands?"

"I live in scrubs and sneakers, the least I can do is dress up on my days off." Takako looked at Shinji's food pointedly. "Are you going to eat that or just make friends with your napkin?"

* * *

He walked her back to her car, always the perfect gentleman (at least when she was involved).

"This isn't going to work," he said, leaning against her car and smirking at her.

"Oh yeah? And why not?" Takako asked, eyeing him.

Shinji shrugged. "Because. I'm me. You're going to fall in love with me and I'm going to have to fake my death, change my name and flee the country."

Takako rolled her eyes. "I'm already having sex with you. Stop it."

"Stop what?" Shinji asked, but she didn't answer, digging through her purse for her keys. "You know, Taka, you should get your keys when you're still in the building and have 'em in your hand so you don't have to dig. Especially at night."

Takako laughed. "You tell Ikumi that?"

"Damn right."

"Okay." Takako gave him a small smile. "I'll call you."

"That is what you said last time."

"Stop nagging. I called you eventually, and you sound like my mom." Takako nudged him playfully, unlocking her car door and tossing her purse onto the front passenger seat. He stopped her before she could get in, and she looked at him curiously. "What now?"

He grabbed her around her waist, held her close, and waited for her to blush before he kissed her, deliberately slowly. Then he pulled back, smiled at her, and without another word, watched as she got into her car (looking a bit shaken).

* * *

Apparently the newlyweds had been so distracted with planning their wedding, packing for their honeymoon and getting the rest of their affairs in order that they had forgotten the keys to their apartment before they'd left for Hawaii.

Actually, Yukie was responsible for all the tasks _but one_ in the above sentence. Guess what part Shuuya was responsible for.

"Fuck," said Shuuya, running a hand through his hair. "Son of a bitch, Mim, you're a fucking lifesaver. Woulda called Kawada but he'd just bitch at me."

Shinji rolled his eyes, jiggling the screwdriver back and forth. "So the words I'm saying, the ones that are less than positive and demean your intelligence, that's not bitching?" he asked lightly, giving the screwdriver a final jump before stepping back, turning the door knob. "Good to know I've still got it."

Shuuya let out a sigh of relief. "Great. About to say, really don't want to make Yukie a self-imposed widow three weeks into our marriage."

Shinji just sighed. "Yes, well, glad to help. Anyway, some of us have work in the morning, so if you'll _excuse me_—"

"Whoa, whoa! I'm the married one, remember?" Shuuya asked, wiggling his ring finger in Shinji's face annoyingly. "Why do you wanna hit the sack so early, bachelor man?"

_Because I want to fuck Takako. _"I have to go to work in the morning, that's why." Shinji avoided eye contact. A side effect of staring into Shuuya's giant brown eyes convinced him more often than not into doing things he'd rather not do.

"Come on, at least come in for a drink or something," said Shuuya pleadingly, "s'been like a month, Mim, I miss ya!"

Considering Takako had yet to text back, Shinji figured all right _fine_, he had fifteen minutes to spare for his best friend.

His phone buzzed in his pocket suddenly and his eyes widened. Might need to make that ten minutes for the best friend.

"Never seen this place so clean," he commented, following chattering Shuuya into the kitchen, trying to discreetly sneak his phone from his pants. "Good lord, Nanahara. You're already whipped."

"And I love it," Shuuya agreed, grinning. "That and I've kinda been whipped for the past ten years anyway. S'not like it's gonna change now."

"Good to know, because it even looks like Yukie's convinced you to bathe," Shinji snickered. "Will wonders never cease?'

"I'm so happy I'll forgive that," said Shuuya in response, nonetheless radiating happy from every pore (moreso than usual, even!). "Being married is the best thing in the world, I'm telling you! Hurry up and get married already, Mim, what are you waiting for?"

"I'll get right on that," Shinji said easily, rolling his eyes behind Shuuya's back. "Any chance of getting that drink to-go, m'man? Got something I need to do."

"Or some_one_," said Shuuya accusingly.

Shinji just shrugged. "Pretty much."

Shuuya looked offended. "Why I never," he said, eyes full of hurt, pouting and clapping his hands over his heart. "My best friend—_best friend—" _("Yeah, best friend who wasn't the best man," Shinji muttered, but Shuuya ignored this) "—is going to blow me off to nail some used-up, vacant-minded, daddy-issue-plagued bimbo? Not cool!"

Shinji amused himself temporarily by imagining Takako's reaction to Shuuya calling her a _used-up, vacant-minded, daddy-issue-plagued bimbo_, but he could talk to Shuuya whenever and this was the first time Takako had booty called him since this whole thing had started. Therefore he was not going to waste an opportunity to get into her—

Until of course he checked his phone. Damn weather alert. It was going to snow, apparently.

"Actually, Shu, I've decided you're right. Far be it from some undeserving woman to tear apart the bonds of friendship." Shinji tucked his phone back into his pocket, hoping he didn't look as disappointed as he felt.

Shuuya nodded understandingly. "You got stood up? S'not a problem, mate, plenty of beer for that."

It would be a waste of time to even bother defending himself, so he just grabbed a beer and joined his best friend in the living room.

He was absolutely not disappointed. No he was not.

* * *

"Two grown men, one of them married, staying up all night watching slasher films. Yeah, we've definitely got it made, Shuuya m'man… too bad Hiroki couldn't make it." Shinji shook his head, taking another pull from his second beer.

"Ditto for Yoshi and Yutaka," Shuuya added, chuckling. "But Hiroki's engaged, man, he's got shit to do now!"

"Yes, apparently it's not until you actually get married when you can start taking it easy," Shinji remarked, laughing.

Shuuya grinned. "Don't let my wife hear you say that. She'll kick your ass." He checked his watch. "It's almost 11, I promised I'd watch her broadcast later… said she's going to give me a _hint_ about what she's gonna do to me when she gets home—"

"That and you're also about half her viewership," Shinji commented, reaching for his phone but changing his mind about halfway there. _NO, MIMURA_!

Shuuya frowned. "I'm touched you think my wife's show has two viewers. Ass." He changed the channel and sighed. "Why does everyone in the horror movies get in the fucking elevator? Take the fucking stairs, you lazy assholes, you deserve the cold embrace of death!"

"Shu, must you MST3K _Dawn of the Dead_ every fucking time we watch? If we're ever stuck in this situation in real life, I think I'll just feed you a bullet and save myself the anxiety."

Shuuya scowled. "Oi, Mim, you wanna keep it down, mate? Trying to hear the TV here!"

Shinji rubbed his temples in annoyance. Shuuya was the type of horror movie watcher who firmly believed the characters in the movie could _hear him_, and often yelled at the TV.

Shinji gets a text from Takako

"Excuse me, please turn off all cellular devices, they are distracting the rest of the audience," Shuuya said, voice a dull monotone as he hugged his pillow to his chest (they'd seen this movie fifty times and he _still_ jumped when the doors to the basement opened).

"Takako just texted me."

"Oh, hey," said Shuuya, sounding politely uninterested, "bet that just made your Saturday, huh?"

Shinji ignored that. "Where are you," he read. _On Shuuya's couch watching zombie movies_ sounded ridiculous. _Surrounded by babes_ was a filthy lie and he did not want to get busted on it.

"Get philosophical. _Where are YOU?" _Shuuya suggested.

"Oh, okay." Shinji frowned. "This is weird. Normally a text this late at night means 'how drunk are you, come fuck me', but…" Actually, that might be what she meant.

"This is _Takako Chigusa_," said Shuuya, emphasizing her name. "Didn't you always used to say the rules never applied to her?"

"I suppose." He ended up being honest with her.

'Sounds lame. COME OVER'

"Shu, I have to go," said Shinji, not taking his eyes off his phone.

"What? Why?" Shuuya asked, pouting tragically.

If a beautiful woman hadn't just demanded his company for the night, the pout probably would have worked.

She really meant this 'use each other for sex' thing seriously, didn't she?

* * *

Her front door was unlocked, and she clearly was setting him up for an ambush, but he did not care. "Taka," he called, shrugging off his coat and laying it on the couch. "Takako, got damn it just jump me already and get it over wi—"

The sudden movement caught his attention, and his eyes got very wide.

"Hey," said Takako, leaning against the wall wearing a smirk. And nothing else.

* * *

Eighteen minutes later, they lay entangled on Takako's bed, sweating and breathing like they'd just run a marathon.

"Never realized how much of a workout this was," Takako managed, pushing his sweaty arm away.

"This is where it all began," said Shinji, grinning. "S'like philosophy. Where it all began…"

"Shut up," said Takako, laughing and hitting him playfully. She narrowed her eyes. "Didn't I say I wanted to be _on top_ next time?"

"Oh, I don't have to do all the work this time?" He crossed his arms behind his head, smirking at her. "Let's see what you've got, then, Chigusa."

"Hmph," said Takako, sitting up and straddling his hips, squeezing his sides with her knees as she eased herself down onto his cock.

"God damn," Shinji mumbled, and she grins as she settles in his lap. She grabs his hands and puts them on her breasts as she starts to rock her hips, leaning down to catch his mouth in a kiss, causing him to groan into her mouth.

It took her a second to realize that the little gasps she was hearing were coming from her own lips, and she realized that instead of fucking fast and furiously like they usually did, she was actually taking her time. Going slow. Seemed kind of strange.

She began to rock her hips against his upward thrusts, slowly at first but gradually gaining speed as she got more confident and figured out what worked for her. Kinda nice to have Shinji be so patient as she basically molested him while discovering what she liked about sex, but it wasn't like he was complaining.

"Fuck," Shinji said, far too loudly, which made her swell with pride. She grinned wider, feeling his hands gripping her hips to steady her as she leaned back. He let go of her hip to move his hand between their bodies, and she made a whimpering moan that she quickly muffled with her hand, which made him chuckle.

She squeezed her eyes closed instead, grinding against his cock and his hand, feeling his hips start thrusting up against her own. A few more thrusts and she's gone, and he barely waits for her to ride it out before flipping them over and thrusting until he comes soon after. After a minute, he disengages himself and flops over next to her.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, gasping for breath and cooling down, before she speaks up.

"Remind me why we haven't been doing this for years now?" she says, and he laughs.

* * *

Takako hadn't realized Shinji had spent the night until she'd bolted upright in the darkness of her bedroom, jostling Shinji's arms away from her body and accidentally elbowing him in the face in the process.

"Ow!" he gasps, sitting up and looking around. "What the—"

"What do you think you're doing, Mimura?" she shouts.

"Holding my nose?" he offers, glaring at her even with his hands clamped over his face. She glared at him, and he sighed. "Didn't feel like driving home and you were already asleep. What's the big deal?"

She gestured between them frantically. "This is the big deal! We're not supposed to snuggle, we're fuck buddies. You're supposed to be gone!"

"Make a damn exception," Shinji answered, scooting back to his side of the bed regardless (kind of hard too, Takako only had a Queen bed and he liked to spread out in his sleep). "You're the first woman I've ever met who _complained_about being cuddled."

Takako scrunched her nose up. "Gross. Stay on your own side or I'll make you sleep in the bathtub."

"Oh, so I can stay, then?" Shinji asked, even though it was already apparent he wasn't leaving.

Takako didn't answer, instead punching her pillow with rather excessive force (Shinji could feel the vibrations under his _own_ pillow) and settling down. They had a brief turf war over custody of the blanket, before finally getting comfortable.

Except now the elephant was in the room and neither could close their eyes. Shinji was waiting for Takako to fall asleep so he could latch onto her again, and Takako was actually rather cold and wanted to put her clothes back on.

"Stop shivering."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are. I can tell."

"How in the world can you—" Takako gasped as his hand covered her breast, and she slapped his hand away. "Get off me!"

"You're freezing your ass off! So am I!"

"It's warm back in your own bed. Go away!"

* * *

Five minutes later, Shinji had just latched onto Takako anyway, and after struggling and trying to break his collarbone several times, she'd finally just resigned herself to her fate and settled down.

"If you get hard during the night, Mimura, so help me," Takako muttered, and he couldn't really blame her, because her ass was nestled right into his crotch. Luckily he'd already told his hormones that he was now snuggling his dream girl and that seemed to be enough (for the moment).

"I have a little more control than that. I didn't just turn thirteen." He reached around her to pull the blanket up higher. "Move."

"No." Takako's recent _I'm angry and this is what you get for pissing me off_ tactic was 'going limp'; even Hiroki could hardly budge her when she was acting like a giant wet noodle.

"Okay, fine. Be a child. Nice way of thanking the guy who's warming you up."

Shinji felt her swell with rage in his arms and was preparing himself for whatever horrible thing she was about to do, when the sound of someone opening the front door saved his life. Takako hissed a string of curses under her breath.

"What? Someone breaking in?" Shinji grinned. "Dibs on the fight scene."

"You idiot, it's _Hiroki_," Takako answered. "Keep your fucking voice down!"

Then there was a giggle, and Shinji recognized that laugh anywhere. "Seems like he's going to be a bit distracted."

"Mitsu, stop," said Hiroki, laughing, but Mitsuko just laughed harder, and judging by the sudden crashing sound, it seemed like they'd fallen onto the couch together. Then they were quiet, except for a few giggles or grunting sounds here and there.

"I think they're making out," Shinji said, just to point out the obvious, and Takako groaned.

"Just shut up and go back to sleep," she muttered. "I lied. Stay here forever for all I care. You're totally welcome."

"Yeah, and I think I know why." He rather wanted to let go of her at the moment.

"Shut up," Takako said, but it there was a clear understated warning in her tone; _don't go there right now_.

Except he was going to go there, right now. "So you're either avoiding being around Hiroki or you're embarrassed that he's going to find out about this? Which is it?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad."

She sat up angrily, pulling the blanket over her breasts in a show of modesty. (She was mad, he now lost boob viewing privileges.) "What the hell am I supposed to say? Hey guys, I'm fucking Shinji now, for reasons completely uncorrelated to your damn wedding, y'know, the one I don't want to hear about?"

Shinji shrugged. "Sounds like the truth to me, babe. Might as well tell them. Honesty's the best policy, right?"

For a second she was absolutely still, and Shinji really thought he'd gone too far and she was absolutely most definitely going to smack him. But she didn't.

"Fine," she said instead, getting out of bed and turning on the light next to her nightstand. "Okay. That's how you want things, then fine. You know what, Shinji? It's getting pretty late. Maybe you should get the hell out."

"Oh really. I point out how you're being a child and you kick me out. Point made." Shinji rolled his eyes. "A thousand pardons, all right? I should've had said anything. I'll just let you sleep with me whenever you're feeling jealous. Okay?"

He was answered with his pants smacking him in the face (ow). "Did I stutter? Get the fuck out of here."

Shinji groaned, getting out of the bed anyway. "You're being insane."

"And there's a pistol in my nightstand that I haven't fired yet. Don't give me a reason to." She threw his shirt at his head, walked into her bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

_That_ could have gone better.

* * *

Wasn't sure why I added in that last bit, but things were too happy so I mixed it up a little.


	5. Chapter 5

Time for some introspective stuff this time around. Lots of background information in this one, so pay close attention :)

* * *

Waking up alone wasn't so bad. Takako had done it repeatedly over the past twenty-five years, with a few exceptions, so it was definitely not something out of the ordinary.

But waking up after having a fight with someone was an awful feeling, and as she got out of bed at 3:26AM, she couldn't help but feel guilty for throwing Shinji out like that. As much as she didn't want to admit it, he was right, and the reason she'd gotten so irrational was

She'd heard somewhere that a broken heart was like a head wound. It made you dizzy and you thought you were going to die, but you recovered. Usually, anyway. Her cynical fellow female doctors usually had a few stories to offer regarding this metaphor, but she just shrugged it off, never having much to say.

She had no future with Hiroki and it was about damn time she accepted it. But it still felt like there was a sad hollow feeling inside her. Shinji was good at filling that emptiness (sexual pun NOT INTENDED) and in response she'd thrown him out on his ass. She wasn't oblivious, she had a feeling Shinji's patience for her Hiroki pining was being stretched very thin, but they'd never had a fight like _that _before.

Well that wasn't true, but you couldn't be friends with someone like Shinji Mimura for close to a decade and not get angry at him.

Regardless of the matter, she had to get to work. She had the entire day to think nasty things about Shinji, particularly when she was dealing with sharp, painful-looking instruments.

(Forcing the thought of him out of her mind when she was in the shower was particularly hard but she was a woman of conviction, god damn it.)

Nothing on the couch, thankfully, so Hiroki and Mitsuko had at least taken their freak show into his bedroom sometime after she'd tossed Shinji out on his ass. She realized that, with Shinji being Shinji, he probably said something to them as he was leaving—meaning Hiroki definitely knew something was up—so she could only hope the newly engaged couple were too busy making out or whatever else they did to notice Shinji slinking out of the apartment like a slutty college student.

She was in the kitchen slicing up strawberries for her breakfast oatmeal, only because she was hungry _now_ and in the mood to hack something up.

Was she still angry about Shinji and now taking her rage out on innocent fruit? Probably, but she didn't care. So ha.

She was so in the middle of relishing hacking strawberries in fourths that she didn't hear footsteps behind her, and it wasn't until a feminine voice asked "what are you doing?" that she screamed and turned around, brandishing the knife at her best friend's fiancée.

Mitsuko stared. "Um, Takako?" Her pouty lips were curved in a frown, but if anything she looked confused. "You okay?"

"Fuck me sideways," Takako said, exhaling and covering her pounding heart with her free hand (setting the knife down). "You scared the shit out of me. Make some noise when you walk."

"Sorry," said Mitsuko, peering over her shoulder. "Going to work?"

"Yes," Takako answered shortly, mostly because she was in her scrubs already and it wasn't like she'd be up at 3:52AM if she didn't have to be at work in thirty minutes. "If you're hungry you can help yourself."

"No, I'm okay. Hiroki had the Great Dragon Dojo Tournament dream again last night, I woke up in a damn headlock," Mitsuko explained, rubbing her neck gingerly. "Thought I'd wait that one out before going back to sleep."

Takako didn't know what thought disturbed her more; one, that Hiroki had tried to choke Mitsuko to death in his sleep; two, disappointment that he hadn't succeeded; or three, that the only thing bigger than the rock on Mitsuko's hand was the hickey on her neck her long hair wasn't quite covering up. "Right," was all she ended up saying.

Mitsuko actually looked rather exasperated now, and if she put her overwhelming bias out of her mind for five seconds, Takako couldn't quite blame the other girl. Mitsuko was trying to be friendly and she, Takako, was being a cold bitch.

But this knowledge didn't make her warm up to Mitsuko at all. Instead she looked down at her hands, not really knowing what to say. She didn't want to steal Mitsuko's fiancé and was genuinely happy for Hiroki (or at least she kept telling herself the latter), but did that mean she had to be Mitsuko's best friend now?

Hell she'd hardly said enough to Hiroki over the past two weeks to string up a sentence, let alone congratulate him on his engagement. And the look in Mitsuko's eyes was saying she knew, or was highly suspicious of, Takako's guest last night, and had heard all the yelling.

She absolutely didn't want to get into any possibility of feelings for Shinji with Mitsuko Souma of all people. That particular train of thought was reserved for the darkest corner of her mind, to be dealt with accordingly when she was on her own.

Was it her imagination or did Mitsuko look almost disappointed? Like this conversation hadn't gone the way she'd planned?

Takako was honestly trying to think of something to say, some sort of olive branch to extend to the other girl, but this sort of thing had never been her forte and she wasn't about to start now.

But right as she was about to turn, Mitsuko just sighed. "See you later, Takako," she said finally, and walked out of the kitchen as silently as she walked in.

Takako glared at a strawberry that had somehow evaded her knifework, and popped the berry in her mouth, biting down ruthlessly.

* * *

Shinji hadn't gone back home after Takako'd thrown him out. Instead he'd gone to a gas station, topped his tank off, and spent the rest of the night driving, mostly trying to force any thought of that insufferable woman out of his mind.

Lying in his bed would only make him think of her more, so he was hoping concentrating on driving on the icy streets would at least distract him. Not a chance, he realized, but he was already two hours out and there was no point turning around now. (He did have to get to work sometime in the morning, but that was neither here nor there.)

Why was he so attached to her? How could she still brush him off like nothing was happening? He was beginning to think Hiroki was some sort of security blanket she'd whip out whenever things weren't going according to her bizarre plan for the future. She'd always been terrified of stuff like this and having sex with her probably just made things more complicated.

Hell, so had he. There was a reason he'd only had one serious girlfriend over twenty-six years. But he liked to get laid. Having sex was fun, and having sex with Takako was very quickly becoming his favorite thing to do in his spare time.

But god damn it he was not going to play second banana to Hiroki Sugimura of all people, especially when the man was engaged to the same girl he'd been with for three years. Takako just had to get over it.

Shinji was by far no expert on analyzing what the hell went on in women's minds—that was Shuuya, mostly likely because the man was far too in touch with his feminine side—but he was starting to notice a pattern. The closer he got to Takako—and this wasn't a new development, this had been going on for years now—the closer the two of them got, whether it was just a conversation or a kiss or anything else—she'd declare her undying love for Hiroki and stomp off.

* * *

Junior high had ended, and he'd just about given up on any hope of Takako Chigusa ever speaking to him. He'd say hello to her if they happened to be alone (which was rare); she'd usually mumble some sort of response and hurry off.

Hiroki had repeatedly said she was just shy, but Shinji stopped asking Hiroki about Takako. Every time he did, even just a casual remark in passing, Hiroki would answer him, but watch him curiously.

It wasn't like he could think of anything to say to her anyway. She wasn't the type for small talk, she would probably get angry if he flirted with her too openly, and he didn't want to squander precious alone time discussing Hiroki with her.

High school had turned into a blessing; not only was his class relatively unchanged (Class 2 instead of Class B, but basically the same class he'd had from junior high school), he and Takako were chosen—hand-picked by their classmates—to be the co-captains for the opening sports fest. And he vowed to eviscerate the competition, particularly that asshole from Class 4 who might be as good at basketball as Shinji was (WHICH HE WAS NOT, Shinji would like to clarify).

Much to his surprise, Takako had opened up rather quickly to him, agreeing to meet up outside school to plan their strategies (because she liked winning and competing as much as he did). Those two weeks leading up to the sports fest went by far too quickly for Shinji's taste, as he'd grown rather accustomed to going somewhere after school with his pretty co-captain to strategize.

It was important to him that he won; not just because Shinji Mimura was a winner and therefore won everything, but because if he—_they_, him and Takako—won this, then he'd have a reason for them to go out sometimes. "Look how well we work together," he'd say.

So after Class 2 had been declared the winner and Class 4 went to cry and slit their wrists and do whatever losers did in their spare time—being a winner, Shinji would not know—he made his excuses to get away from his friends and ventured across the courtyard alone, occasionally glancing over his shoulder at the fireworks but keeping an eye out for the prettiest girl in the class.

It was rather hard to distinguish between the girls in their yukatas, especially since they'd all seemed to pick the same colors this year, but he could always count on Takako to stand out in the crowd. Wasn't like every girl wore their hair dyed light brown with orange streaks. (Shuuya was, as usual, useless, only being able to find Yukie in the crowd of girls.)

And sure enough, there she was, talking to a familiar-looking girl Shinji recognized as one of the Class 4 losers. He'd never seen Takako look so animated in conversation, and was just thinking about how pretty her smile was when she suddenly turned and looked at him.

Shinji, realizing he was _busted_, just kept his gaze on her. "Can I talk to you?"

He was rather amazed that after all the girls he'd dated, there was still only one girl who could make his intestines squirm and his heart pound in his chest. There was no way a straight guy could get to know Takako and not fall for her, at least a little bit. He was living proof.

And with Hiroki's blessing (well, it's not like Hiroki'd ever said _Stay away from Takako, you slut)_, he was here. About to make a move on the prettiest—and most stubborn—girl he'd ever met.

The girl Takako was talking to (Kahoru Kitazawa, one of the few girl friends she had) looked surprised to see him, clearly knowing who he was, but walked away hurriedly, glancing back at them curiously.

Takako looked at him, dressed in her pretty mint green yukata. "Hey, Mimura."

"Hey." Shinji paused. "I don't know if you've heard, but we're being publicly hailed as badasses. I think they're going to erect statues of us in the middle of the auditorium."

Takako actually grinned. "Sounds good. They should have done that years ago." She paused. "Even if we've only been going to school here for a few months."

Shinji chuckled. "They should've anticipated greatness. I can see a statue of you towering over everyone running with that baton, like you were born passing those things."

"Yeah, your statue can be you raging over Ishijima almost beating you in that basketball game," Takako said, and there was a genuine smile on her lips.

"Hey! I kicked his ass, didn't I?"

"In the last half of the fourth quarter," Takako answered, shaking her head. "I thought our basketball ace was gonna let us down."

"Better watch yourself there, girl. I'm damn good at two things, basketball and—" He stopped himself from hitting on her, instead finishing lamely with—"computer stuff."

Takako raised an eyebrow, like she was surprised how that sentence ended, but she didn't push it. Instead she grinned again. "What, you want a re-enactment? This is what you looked like when you missed that free throw…"

"And this is what you looked like when Yutaka screamed and carried the ball away from that guy who was chasing him…"

"And _this_ is your exact face when Ishijima made that three-point—HEY!" Takako yelled, interrupted when Shinji picked her up and held her over the fountain threateningly, "Shinji don't you dare!" She grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to look pissed but failing, and finally when she laughed Shinji couldn't help the giant grin spreading across his face.

He was almost sure he was overstepping his boundaries here, but she wasn't complaining and she'd clearly beat him senseless if she had a problem.

"If you drop me I'm going to kill you," Takako said threateningly, her eyes dancing.

Shinji pasted his most mock-terrifying expression on his face, lowering his face to hers. "Not until you take back those filthy lies you're spewing."

"I'm sorry… that I alerted you to how much you suck," Takako told him, her face serious even as her hands bunched in his shirt sleeves.

He had to chuckle at that, and she was still grinning which was making him feel ridiculously silly right about now. "You're a real piece of work, y'know that, Chigusa? I'm amazed we work so well together."

"Hm. Didn't think of it that way," said Takako, and she punched his shoulder lightly. "Put me down, all the blood's going to my head."

He set her down, only because people were staring as they walked by, but his arms were still around her waist. Takako herself seemed to be biting her lip thoughtfully, her hand still holding his shirt at the shoulder. They'd caught the other's eye unintentionally and looked away. Takako was blushing and he was sure his face had some color to it as well.

And then he'd decided _the hell with it_, and he turned her face towards his and stupidly leaned in to kiss her. She hadn't moved, and he was an inch from her lips—maybe less—when she'd stepped away shyly and pushed him back.

"What?" he asked, aware he sounded impatient. Dial it down a notch, Mim, you sound like a lunatic.

Takako looked at her fidgeting hands. "I've never done this before."

"You've never kissed a boy before?" And that reason was so ridiculous, so absolutely awesome—holy shit, she'd never kissed a boy before meaning if he could kiss her now, he'd be her first—

Takako nodded, and looked up at him, tilting her pretty face just enough to give him access, so to speak. "You can kiss me if you want to." She shrugged, trying (and failing) to make this seem like a throwaway statement of no real importance to her.

Shinji felt the hint of a smirk on his face. "You'll allow it?"

Takako nodded again. "I'll allow it."

He crushed his lips to hers, gently at first, gradually working at her mouth until she'd parted her lips and let him slip his tongue inside. She hadn't done much but try to follow his lead, moving her lips against his shyly, touching his sides before hesitantly rubbing his chest through his shirt.

Eventually he had to pull back, only because he needed to breathe, because now that he'd actually gotten to kiss her he really just wanted to do it again. Their foreheads were still touching and her eyes were crossed as she looked up at him.

She smiled, and Shinji was pleased to see she was blushing. He'd never seen beautiful, confident Takako looking more like the shy fifteen-year-old she was.

"That was nice," she'd said, sounding somewhat dazed, and Shinji couldn't help smirking with pride.

He had walked her home, and she'd even thanked him before retreating inside and closing the door. If he'd asked her out, she would have said yes… but he didn't. They'd stayed friends, Shinji kept his distance. Hiroki would want Takako eventually; Shinji's loyalty was first and foremost to Hiroki, and he doubted Hiroki would be too thrilled to learn he'd fooled around with her first.

His late uncle used to say "the early bird gets the worm". But Takako was not a worm and Hiroki had always been more of a morning person than Shinji ever was. Live and let live.

He really just wished he'd met Takako before Uncle Hajime died.

As it turned out, it was written by the ancient sages that Takako was destined to have her heart broken. Because if Hiroki did have feelings for her, he had a strange way of showing it, as he asked out Kayoko Kotohiki.

Hiroki's feelings for Kayoko were not lost on Shinji; he'd teased the martial artist mercilessly about it, hoping to goad him into asking the girl out (therefore leaving Takako available _and_ erasing any residual guilt he may have over dating Hiroki's best friend/potential girlfriend). But by the time Hiroki started dating Kayoko, _he _had been dating Chisato Matsui for three months.

And he was surprised that he actually did like Chisato. She had, in a fit of stammering, blushing nerves, asked him out one day, in the middle of helping him with a homework assignment; he'd been so surprised he'd said yes (he would've said yes anyway; Chisato was cute, after all, and shy, which probably meant she'd put out). Much to his surprise, she had a great sense of humor, similar interests to his, and was not the squealing fangirl he'd figured she would be.

Okay, so she wasn't Takako, but she was still a nice girl. He'd walked her home, asked her when their next date was, and Chisato had been so shocked he wanted another she'd leaned really close to his face. "I would kiss you but I don't think I know how."

He'd laughed and kissed her, and she had not been kidding about not knowing how. But like another girl, she was a fast learner, and he'd gotten her up to speed in no time. He didn't think about Takako when he was kissing Chisato.

As for his budding friendship/relationship-if-you-squinted with Takako, they gradually grew apart. But it was worse not talking to her now; before, when they didn't talk, it was because they didn't know each other. Now they weren't talking because he was dating another girl and they didn't have anything to talk about.

He liked many things about Chisato, but the girl was so down on herself she'd never understand if he told her about Takako. So he kept his mouth shut.

* * *

High school came and went. So did dating Chisato, really, because without even realizing it, they'd been together for almost three years.

He'd gone from recoiling at the idea of a serious relationship to having a steady girlfriend for three years. Damn. Not too shabby, Mimura. Uncle Hajime would be proud.

Of course the end of high school signaled the end of an era, and the long-awaited consequences of slacking academically came back to bite Shinji in the ass. Hokkaido University was promising him a full scholarship if he played basketball. It was also the only school that was willing to overlook his mediocre grades. The only classes he had straight marks in were gym (which didn't count); computers (obvious reasons) history, chemistry and math (which he'd always been decent at). Literature bored him senseless, he wasn't sure he was spelling half of the words correctly, and quite frankly he'd deemed the subject to be a waste of his time.

Chisato, on the other hand, was no athletic wonder; but her grades were top-rate, ranked twelfth in a class of overachievers (Takako Chigusa was ranked _fourth_—he shouldn't still be keeping tabs on her, but he was), and she was planning on attending Kyoto University on a full scholarship. The school she'd wanted to attend since she was about six years old, apparently.

Which was nowhere near Hokkaido University. (Shinji was ranked twenty-ninth in the class.)

She'd cried, and she'd been frustrated as hell with him when he hadn't even tried to convince her to go to Hokkaido with him. And he supposed he could see why. He wasn't fighting for her to stay with him; in fact, he was passively going along with the passage of time. He hadn't applied to Kyoto, knowing full well he wouldn't get in.

(Takako was planning on attending Kyushu University, on the complete opposite side of the country. So was Hiroki Sugimura.

Sometimes he wondered if he was still the only guy she'd ever kissed. Some part of him kind of hoped that was true, but how was that fair? He had a girlfriend.)

* * *

Yukie—honor student on her way to Tokyo University, _the_ Tokyo University, on an academic scholarship—was, of course, planning the graduation party. She'd even convinced everyone to chip in for the party to ensure it'd be more fun.

"No kegs," she'd added warningly, frowning at her boyfriend. Shuuya grinned roguishly at her and she blushed, turning away from him pointedly.

Chisato would not be able to attend, some business at Kyoto concerning the lease on her new apartment she had to take care of. "I don't want to live with a bunch of girls. What if they don't like me?" she worried.

"Why wouldn't they like you?" Shinji asked reasonably. He paused. "I suppose if you hung a picture of your boyfriend up for them all to see. Then yeah, they probably wouldn't like you."

Chisato started laughing. "I wish I could come to Yukie's party."

"It's okay," he'd told her reassuringly. "We've still got the whole summer." _Except I applied for early admission to Hokkaido, so really, we've got about a month. _But he didn't tell her that.

She just beamed at him and wound their fingers together. Shinji kissed the top of her head.

* * *

Yukie's party turned out to be pretty damn fun. (Didn't help that Shuuya had enlisted Shinji's aid in smuggling a few dozen bottles of just about every liquor imaginable right under Yukie's nose.) Yukie had been expecting this insubordination on her boyfriend's part; after catching him red-handed, she'd smacked him on the head once before grabbing a beer of her own and declaring this party as _officially_ beginning. (Everyone cheered.)

The party was fun, nostalgic at times; after all, most of the kids in Class 2 had known each other since they were thirteen years old, so it was strange to think that they'd all be going their separate ways soon.

"Just think. No more me," said Shinji wistfully. Yutaka choked on his drink from laughing.

It seemed like everyone in Class 2 had come out for the party, and quite a few of their fellow seniors from other classes had come to the party as well. Shinji had no idea who was crashing and who actually was invited, but there was enough drinks for everyone and Yukie certainly didn't seem to mind hosting the best senior farewell party.

Was everyone here? Chisato wasn't, and he had to admit he wasn't thinking about her—instead he was thinking about a different girl, the same one who still made his insides twist up at the thought of seeing her.

And sure enough, she was there, her crossed legs dangling off the side of the table she'd been sitting on. She was wearing the tiniest Chinese-style red dress he'd ever seen, her hair was up in a messy bun, she wore platform heels (he didn't remember when she'd switched from boots to heels, but he could appreciate how sexy her ankles were—ankles, Mim? Really? That's the best you've got?), and a smile.

A smile that had to be for him, because he was standing alone and she was looking right at him.

He felt his breath hitch somewhere in his throat, and thought about his girlfriend, nonetheless approaching her because this was _Takako_ _Chigusa _and apparently that torch he hadn't realized he still carried for her still hadn't gone out. "Hey, Takako."

Takako's beautiful smile stayed there, and she held her manicured little hand out to him. Shinji took it and she jumped off the table, stumbling forward into him. "I want to tell you something," she told him, tottering on her heels.

Shinji placed a hand on her waist to steady her. "Oh really? And what might that be?"

Takako's hands were on his biceps to steady herself. He was beginning to think she was drunk—she was wearing heels, but he'd never seen her stumble around before, and the sudden loss of her dexterity was usually a good sign of intoxication. But he was so eager to be this close to her again he didn't care what the reason was.

"You can kiss me if you want to," Takako said softly, so quietly he thought he'd misheard her.

"You'll allow it?"

Takako nodded, fisting her hands in the front of his shirt and pulling him closer to her until their lips met.

His mind was a happy, oblivious haze as he kissed her, re-acquainting himself with the familiar territory. Her lips were soft, her hands were all over his body, her small body was pressed against his. She moaned as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, twisting with hers, and they'd barely pulled back to breathe before she was kissing him again, one of her hands raking through his hair and her other fisting itself in his shirt.

All he was thinking about was how much he'd wanted her, for so long, and how she fit so perfectly in his arms, and how kissing her was the most natural feeling in the world. He probably should be thinking these thoughts about his girlfriend.

After a few minutes of this, it occurred to him that she'd probably let him do whatever he wanted with her, the way she was acting. Maybe she was so drunk she wouldn't remember this in the morning. It was that thought that made him pull back.

Then he remembered he had a girlfriend, and there was more than a few people at this party staring at the two of them, clearly able to tell what was going on. Shinji almost swore under his breath, but instead focused on the girl beside him, who was resting her head on his collarbone.

Looks like the party was over. "Taka. Takako. Come with me," he said, gently but firmly, taking her hand, intent on dragging her home before doing something they would both regret.

"Boo," said Takako, looking annoyed.

Unfortunately, everyone at the party _had_ noticed Shinji and Takako making out before leaving hand-in-hand.

Uh-oh.

* * *

It hadn't taken Chisato long to hear the news, and she was in tears when she confronted him. Shinji had really thought she'd grown out of the crying by now; usually when she got angry at him she'd sit close-by, ignore everything he said, and employ a wicked combination of pouting and sulking until he apologized for whatever it was he was supposed to apologize for.

Her tears really hit a nerve. She knew as well as he did that they were going to be ancient history soon, so why not get a leg up?

Actually, that was a horrible thing to be thinking, and he was promptly ashamed of himself for going there. He knew very well he'd be damn pissed if he'd heard Chisato was leaving a party with some guy, especially since they hadn't broken up (yet).

He pulled his crying girlfriend in for a hug. "I'm sorry, hon. We had too much to drink. Nothing happened, I brought her home. She's best friends with Hiroki, I wasn't going to just leave her there…"

Chisato looked alarmed. "You drove when you had been drinking!?"

They hugged and kissed and made up; neither of them could possibly know Takako Chigusa was very nearby, having overheard the whole thing.

Graduation came and went, and although he'd singled Takako out on graduation day—she'd won several academic awards _and_ an award for track, he'd won the equivalent for basketball—she'd just accepted his congratulations without a word and brushed past him.

He'd accepted it as the end of an era. Then two months passed, and he ran into her on his fourth day at Hokkaido.

"Takako?" he asked incredulously, very nearly dropping the armful of expensive textbooks he was carrying.

Takako turned around, and if she was surprised to see him she didn't show it. "Hey, Mimura."

"You go to school here?" he asked, surprised.

Takako nodded. "Yeah. It's a nice campus."

He was surprised he hadn't noticed her, but she was probably still so much faster than he was… he hadn't been paying attention. Hell, he hadn't thought to look for her. Didn't she get accepted to Kyushu? Why was she here?

She interrupted his thoughts with a curt "See you around, Mimura," and walked away before he could say anything else to her. Shinji watched her go, surprised that he couldn't think of anything to say to her. And he was sure he knew why she was so angry. But he just didn't want Chisato hating him.

* * *

When she finally got home around 4:30 in the afternoon, the only thing more disgusting than the state of her scrubs was her _hair_, and she'd been fantasizing about a shower (a Shinji-free shower, actually) for hours now.

Except Hiroki was waiting by the front door, and the look on his face clearly screamed WE NEED TO TALK in bold letters.

Takako swallowed the urge to groan. Son of a bitch.

"What's up?" she asked, pasting a smile on her face.

Hiroki frowned. "Bad day at work?"

"I guess."

Clearly bothered by this, Hiroki persevered. "Not as bad as your night, though. Right?"

Takako hoped he thoughts of OH FUCK ME SIDEWAYS wasn't totally visible on her face, but she was wrong, and it was. "You heard."

"Pretty sure the downstairs neighbors heard, Taka." Hiroki furrowed his brow. "You're with Shinji now? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You've been busy. And we're not _together_, not really." Takako avoided eye contact.

"Not really? What do you mean there?"

She didn't want to say they were fuck buddies, but she didn't want to lie to Hiroki either. "we're… we haven't really put a name on it. Stuff just kind of happened, and then…"

"You haven't stopped?" Hiroki guessed.

Takako became defensive. "Why are you asking me all of this?"

"You guys are my best friends, Taka. Am I not allowed to be happy for you guys?" Hiroki chuckled. "I don't mean to corner you or anything. I just wanted to make sure everything was alright."

Yeah right, more like Mitsuko probably bitched to him after she had left for work. But there was nothing in Hiroki's expression that suggested he was hiding anything.

She loosened up a bit, glancing up at him rather shyly. "Yeah, I mean… good as things can ever be between me and Shinji." She laughed a little, and Hiroki joined in.

"You guys have been that way as long as I can remember," he said, shaking his head. "Me and Shu had a running bet going to see how long it'd take you two to realize you were perfect for each other."

"Wh—what!?" That caught her by surprise (and she made a quick mental note to pay a certain lying Nanahara a visit when he least expected it). "What would you guys know about anyone being perfect for anyone else?"

Hiroki shrugged. "You make a fair point. I never would've guessed I'd fall in love with Mitsuko."

"But I'm not in love with Shinji!"

That made him chuckle. "I never said you were! But it does seem a little extreme to yell at him and throw him out into the cold at two in the morning…"

She huffed. "Why do you think you're right about everything? That's my job."

"Because I usually am when it comes to you. Comes with the territory." He patted her shoulder. "Why don't you get cleaned up and take a nap? You'll feel better when you can look into a mirror without screaming."

Takako opened her mouth to argue, but Hiroki tilted his head in the direction of the mirror they had in the hallway, and sure enough it _did_ look like Hiroki was exchanging pleasantries with the newest undead member of The Walking Dead.

She shoved his hand off her shoulder, grumbling under her breath as she made her way towards her bathroom. It was always hard to look at herself in the mirror now, as this had been the exact location where Shinji molested her naked body in here, but she put it out of her mind and climbed into the shower.

Shinji had elbowed his way into her life and solidified his presence there. She'd rescued Hiroki from bullies when they were eight years old and told him to man up. Hiroki wouldn't be who he was today if it wasn't for her, and she wouldn't be who she was today without Shinji.

She was beginning to get the idea she was being more than a little unfair to Shinji. But if the two of them were really made for each other, she didn't intend on giving in without some sort of a fight.

* * *

Holy crap this one took forever. 15 pages!


	6. Chapter 6

Ugh, here was a familiar feeling, waking up with what felt like twisted knots for intestines. He groaned and rubbed his stomach, willing the churning to go away.

He rolled over and sensed movement; opening his eyes revealed one Yukie Utsumi-Nanahara, and he jumped.

"Good morning, sunshine," said Yukie, amusement evident in her pretty face. "You and Shu have a fun night last night?"

"I wouldn't know, can't remember a thing. Ugh." Shinji blinked a few times, scrunching his face up, swallowing to get the dry chalky feeling out of his throat. "Where'd he go anyway? What time is it?"

"It's 6:30. Just enough time for CEOS of big fancy companies to get ready for work." Yukie prodded his arm. "C'mon, Shinji, up and at 'em. Shu gets to sleep in because I'm married to a bum, but _you _have responsibilities. And a sister who is terrified."

"What?" Shinji asked, looking confused. "Shit. Where is she?"

"I would assume at your house. She called you ten times. I would've called her back but I don't know your phone password."

"Fuck," said Shuuya, sitting up behind the couch, making Yukie scream which made Shinji's head ache even more. "Fuck, Mim, what the hell? We passed out like pussies?"

"You idiots put away an entire liquor cabinet! Whose idea was it for Shinji to drink his feelings?" Yukie frowned, grabbing Shuuya by his arm and pulling him to his feet. "I cannot believe you, Shu!"

"Really don't see how anything I can do surprises you at this point in our relationship," Shuuya began, laying on the charm, but wisely stopped when Yukie's frown seemed permanent. "Come on, babe, I thought it'd help! S'not my fault Mim's depressed and can't hold his liquor worth a shit. I just wanted my best friend to SMILE again! He won't even tell me what the fuck happened."

"Yeah, well, if he pukes you're cleaning it. Go get him some water?"

Shuuya nodded, scurrying off towards the kitchen and nearly tripping in his haste.

"I hate him for being immune to hangovers," Shinji grumbled. "Yeah, Ikumi's pissed. This is gonna cost me."

"Is this about Takako throwing you out the other night?"

Shinji sighed, rubbing his temples. "Is there a newsletter circulating that I don't know about?"

"Mitsuko told me," said Yukie, looking like she was trying not to laugh. Shinji appreciated the effort. "Said Takako was all upset the other morning, she was wondering what was going on."

"Mitsuko said that? Hmm. Taka will just hear that as _Mitsu's trying to memorize my routine like any normal serial killer does before they kill their victim_, but I suppose I appreciate the sentiment."

Yukie laughed. "Shu and I have had a bet going for years. You and Takako have been a long time coming, Mim. Don't mess it up, okay?"

Shinji just snorted. "Trying not to."

* * *

About damn time Shinji had finally gone to work. Shuuya was beginning to think the front of his pants was going to burst and the last thing he wanted was for that to happen around Shinji _again_. He still got weird looks for that, and it only happened once. Once. Not everyone had forcibly trained their libidos since the tender age of THIRTEEN for prime sexual function, Mim was just a judgmental freak of nature who wouldn't know true love if it sidled up beside him stark naked and asked for a dance.

But right now, he was in bed with the love of his life, and he was _also_ a genius. Or at least Yukie'd moaned it so loudly during their, ah, strategizing, that he'd started to believe it himself.

"So I'm a genius, huh, babe?" he chuckled, nuzzling his face into his wife's neck.

Yukie giggled, running her fingers through Shuuya's hair. "Oh absolutely," she said, curling beside him, her fingers tracing the muscles in his chest thoughtfully. "Really, I guess they're not kidding when they say this sort of thing boosts brain activity…"

"We should totally have sex every time we need to figure something out. Or spice up something boring. Like laundry."

"Or paying bills!" Yukie looked excited. "Or returning phone calls, or writing our thank you notes for the wedding gifts!"

"Or… or… or cooking dinner."

"That doesn't sound hygienic, Shu…"

"Yeah maybe not dinner."

They were quiet, Shuuya stroking circles on his wife's back as the newlyweds stared up at the ceiling happily. Really, was it any wonder they meddled in the love lives of their friends? Getting Shinji and Takako back together was not going to be easy, which was exactly why Shuuya had volunteered himself for the position. They'd get the two of them over here for dinner, it'd be a total couple thing… and basically be a big double date. Then when all was said and done, Mim could, ah, do his thing, and Takako'd swoon, think he planned the entire thing to impress her, and they'd be all happy too.

…But actually, the more he thought about it… his heart was in the right place (as always), and his plan was impeccable, but…

"Baby?"

"Mm?"

"Is it… I dunno… kinda weird that we strategize my best friend's sex life when we're having sex ourselves?"

Yukie was quiet, deep in thought. "I wasn't going to say anything, honey…"

"It's only weird if we make it weird."

"I think it's kinda weird, Shu."

"Then it's weird. Glad we got that out there." Shuuya laid back against the pillows. "S'not like we haven't reached a place free of judgment a long time ago though, right?"

Yukie laughed. "Of course. And as for you…" She sat up and straddled him so quickly Shuuya hardly realized she'd moved, but hey, he wasn't going _anywhere_. "I've got another six hours before I have to get dinner started. You up for it?"

Shuuya grinned, grabbing her hips. "Oh, wait, lemme check my schedule… oh, that's right, nothing~ take it away, baby!"

"You need to get a job, Shu. I'm sleeping with the unemployed."

"It's only weird if we make it weird!"

* * *

He was actually in the middle of getting some work done when his phone started going off. He scowled at it, thinking it was probably Shuuya's daily reminder of _I'm having sex and you're not because you blew it with Takako hehehehe_,

"The next person with the surname _Nanahara _to offer me pity is going to be mentioned by name in my suicide note," Shinji said finally, propping his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he flipped through some charts Accounting had dropped off.

"Christ, Mim, do you always answer the phone like that?"

Shinji paused. "Hiroki Sugimura. To what do I owe the honor?"

"Why do you talk like that? Just saying hi… you going to Yukie and Shu's for dinner later? They invited me, _insisted_ I bring Takako. I thought you had something to do with it."

"Why would I have something to do with that?" Shinji asked.

"I make conclusions in my mind, Mimura, and I am rarely wrong. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark and it has you written all over it."

"Is state of Denmark some sort of euphemism for Takako's closet? Because I have nothing to do with whatever it is she's angry about now."

"Yeah, whatever. See you later?"

"I guess."

* * *

"No. No, Hiroki, I'm not going in there—Hiroki just because you physically _can_ pick me up and relocate me does not mean it is polite for you to do so! Put me down, these are new shoes!"

"Then stop trying to kick me and I will!" Hiroki winced, setting his angry best friend on the ground, letting her totter about on her ridiculous heels as she attempted to regain her balance. "The hell has gotten into you, Taka, this was your idea!"

Takako put her hands on her hips before apparently second-guessing this particular pose, pointing instead to a familiar sports car (once again left in the air because the author is not paid to endorse fancy cars!). "_It's _here!"

Hiroki was bewildered. "And it is…"

Takako slapped her forehead. "Are you always this dense or are you just auditioning for the role on TV!? Come on, Hiroki, this is a total set-up, Shuuya just wants me to talk to Mimura again!"

"What kind of world do you live on where people who care about you go behind your back and orchestrate seven-point-plans to meddle in your life, Taka?"

("Yup, that's exactly what happened," Shuuya would later say to Hiroki, which caused the martial artist to slap his forehead in disbelief.)

"I'm missing date night for this, you threatened my family lineage if I didn't tag along. Well here I am, Taka, and I'm not going to brag, but this is a new shirt! A new shirt, Taka!"

"I DON'T CARE," Takako hollered, making Hiroki jump and several neighborhood dogs begin barking. "If you need me I'll be at home! Don't need me!"

"Are you seriously going to walk? Taka! You're not wearing tactical footwear, what if you're attacked?"

Takako turned, and the moonlight was only illuminating half of her face. Hiroki had always had a _theory_ about Takako's beauty; she was very beautiful, but she was also very _scary _depending on which half of her face you could see.

This half was all scary, and Hiroki's theory became scientific law as she narrowed her one visible eye. "I welcome the attack. They won't know what hit them."

And then she stormed off.

Hiroki spent all of five seconds wondering just how Takako planned on getting back to their shared apartment when he heard the car engine starting.

Oh, right, Takako had driven. And she'd just totally abandoned him here—WAIT. "TAKA! No fair!"

* * *

"You're late," complained Shuuya, "dammit Hiroki, nice of you to give two fucks about other people's time!"

"You don't have a job, what do you know about punctuality?" Shinji asked, making a face.

"Why do we keep coming back to this?" Shuuya whined. "Oi, speaking of questioning sensitive subjects we know nothing about, what the hell was all that yelling out there, Sugi?"

Hiroki rolled his eyes. "The truth would suit you far less than a lie, my friend. What smells delicious?"

"That is for my wife to announce and for you to sit there anxiously awaiting the news," Shuuya answered, sitting on the coffee table. "So where's Takako?" He tried to sound as indifferent as possible.

Shinji rolled his eyes this time. Shuuya didn't do _indifferent_, and the look of absolute disappointment on his face when Hiroki just sighed in response was so dramatic one would've thought _he _was Takako's scorned lover.

Scorned lover. He smacked the side of his head in annoyance. Where was his logical, analytical mind coming up with this Shakespeare-in-the-park crap?

Then Shuuya stuck his face right in his, and he yelped and fell backwards. "WHAT!?" he managed, all frostiness scared right out of him.

Shuuya looked offended. "Takako's out there!" he explained. "Shouldn't you—I mean, _we_—try and convince her to come?"

"I don't care if she comes or not, Shu. Whether Takako comes or not is really none of my business."

"Is that a sexual thing?" Shuuya asked suspiciously, while Hiroki rubbed his temples and silently regretted not making more friends in his teens.

* * *

Dinner (shrimp scampi with truffle oil and a Caprese salad) was absolutely delicious, and they were in the middle of dessert (beer) when Shinji's phone went off.

"Did you leave Ikumi alone at home _again_? Shinji you should've brought her!" said Yukie reproachfully, smacking his arm.

"Who's _Do Not Call Her_?" Hiroki asked, peering over Shinji's shoulder. Then he paused. "Oh, fuck me. I know who do not call her is."

"Who?" Shuuya asked suspiciously, looking between them both. "Who? Takako?"

Shuuya was ignored (bad idea) by Hiroki getting to his feet. "Mim, look, I can't be privy to this. I'm supposed to be an unbiased party."

"What is everyone talking about?" Shuuya complained. "Come on, guys, tell me! Is this about Taka throwing Mim out the other night? Because I know about that! Stop talking in riddles!"

Yukie patted Shuuya's arm. "Settle down, honey, you look like a Jigglypuff when you pout like that."

"Do not," Shuuya pouted, but was quiet.

Shinji frowned. "Oi, for the last time. This _thing_ between Chigusa and myself is not a big deal. She's just… it's insignificant and will blow over in good time. Alright?"

"I believe you," said Hiroki, holding his hands up in a gesture for peace. "But really, I don't want to know what you're about to say. Or what's going on between you guys. It wouldn't be right to hear anything without hearing both sides."

"If you say so," said Shinji, "I'm telling you, s'no big deal. But if it makes you uncomfortable…"

"Taka will be able to _smell_it on me, Mim, she already thinks I'm in here getting the entire debriefing on your situation." Hiroki thumped his friend's shoulder. "You guys'll be fine. Just a rough patch." He paused. "Also this exit seems more dramatic than it really is. Mitsu's outside and she apparently looks like a mess so she doesn't want anyone seeing her."

"A rough patch in what? It's like I'm not even here!" Shuuya whined, looking absolutely lost, but Hiroki said the rest of his goodbyes and left. The man of the house banged his fist on the table. "Okay, as man of the house I _demand_ someone tells me what the good flying fuck is going on between Mim and Takako. I get Mim drunk last night and all he does is cry, and now you guys are just acting like you know what's going on! Just once I would like someone who is not my wife to tell me what the hell is going on so I get to stop eavesdropping on conversations!"

Yukie patted his hand once before homing in on Shinji. "What'd she say now?" she asked.

Shinji blinked slowly, staring at his phone. "Yukie? Want to read this for me? I need a second opinion."

Yukie shrugged, stepping over her husband's legs and taking Shinji's phone. Prompted by Shuuya's immediate whine of _what's it saaaaaaaaaay_, she turned to Shuuya and waved Shinji's phone at him. "It's from Takako, as expected. She wants him to go over to her place, I guess because Hiroki and Mitsuko are both out, probably because Mitsuko had to come pick Hiroki up."

"DON'T DO IT!" Shuuya shouted, looking alarmed. "Fuck, Mim, she's luring you into an ambush! She knows the terrain! She's gonna—"

Shinji frowned. "Yukie, control your woman."

"I'm with Shu, I don't think it's going to end well," Yukie agreed, giving Shinji his phone back and sitting in Shuuya's lap (who immediately smiled and wrapped his arms around her). "What're you going to do, Shinji?"

Shinji thought about it. "I've survived the wrath of Chigusa before. Dunno what she can throw at me."

"She could be naked again, but she won't let you touch her," Shuuya suggested, hands playing on his wife's thighs.

Shinji winced. "That would be bad. But if that's the worst possible scenario… I mean, if she's already naked, that takes a few steps off my seduction procedure…"

"Procedure? It's like you suck the romance out of it with a sterilized needle, Shinji," said Yukie, shaking her head. "Shu, you're all man, what do you think?"

Shuuya shrugged. "I guess if she took her clothes off, that might get Mim's head in a fog… but Takako's probably like a 6 naked, Mim's got that covered."

"A _6_? She's probably like a 13, Shu, she exercises all the time," Yukie pointed out.

Shuuya scrunched his nose up. "If she's a 13 then you're a 72, hon," he said reassuringly. "Besides, your boobs are bigger."

"What is it with you and my boobs all of a sudden?" Yukie asked, looking embarrassed (but also turned on), "geez, Shu, it's like you're 19 again…"

(Shinji snickered.)

"Mommy fixation? I like to nuzzle," Shuuya offered. "Oi, how did we get on this again? Mim, go to Takako's house, rip her clothes off if she isn't already naked and show her what she's missing! Drive her home like a pack of sled dogs!"

Yukie looked wide-eyed for a second there. "Like a pack of sled dogs?"

"Too crude?" Shuuya asked.

Yukie shook her head immediately. _GET RID OF SHINJI NOW_, she thought, sending her thoughts telepathically towards her husband. Shuuya blinked, nodded, and scooted them both back over towards Shinji, who was eying them nervously like he expected them to start having sex in front of him again.

"I'm still here," Shinji commented, still looking wary.

"Yeah. Look, Mim, you're being a giant pussy. Does Takako look like the kind of girl who puts out for just anyone? Of course not! So clearly she likes you. You just did something to piss her off, and what you have to do _now_ is apologize for it," Shuuya explained. "So, get her some flowers or something! Or, like… I don't know, what kind of sacrifices does a succubus accept before she agrees to spare the innocents?"

Yukie rolled her eyes. "There are worse things she can do to you than deny you sex, Mim. Come on now."

"Name two things," Shinji answered, while Shuuya shook his head stubbornly.

"No way. There is no two things worse than no sex," he said, frowning at his wife. "Come on, baby, what'd you do when you wanted me to cut my hair?"

Yukie had no argument to that, validating Shinji's point.

"You sleep with him to reinforce good behavior and hygiene?" Shinji asked, looking amused. "Are you conditioning him?"

Shuuya frowned. "That explains why I get an erection every time I floss!"

Yukie changed the subject. "Shinji don't you have a girl to go chase? Go get her before Hiroki gets home and totally cockblocks you."

Shinji shrugged. "I suppose. S'not like I've got any other plans for the evening, I suppose I could make a stop." And with that, Shinji Mimura made his exit, intent on finding his dream girl and making her beg for his forgiveness (even though he'd probably be fine with her just apologizing once or twice and then begging him to have sex with her).

"He sure seemed pretty cavalier about it," Yukie said. "Sweetie, go lock the door, okay?"

"Coming from Mim, that was like a dance of joy," Shuuya commented, nonetheless scrambling to his feet and checking the deadbolt. "Anyway it is about damn time the two of them work their shit out because they've been like this since college and I've always wanted to just throw 'em in a room and make them

Yukie ignored him, steadily unbuttoning her blouse until she turned around with a grin. "Stop while you're ahead?" she offered, undoing the front clasp of her bra.

Shuuya grinned. "It's like I just flossed."

* * *

Shinji was sitting in his car, his heart pounding in his chest wondering what the fuck was going on. What had he done to deserve this? WHY would someone attempt to break into his house tonight of all nights? He'd never had a break-in before, and the one night he absolutely had somewhere he needed to be—this was clearly the universe intervening to give him another chance with Takako, the chance he _never ever thought he'd get, ever_ and somehow the universe had fucked him over.

Had his little sister not called him in a panic, he really would've just told her to give the burglars whatever the fuck they wanted so long as he didn't have to turn around and head back to his house. But at least he'd get his fight scene. Nobody cockblocked Shinji Mimura simultaneously while stealing his things and terrorizing his sister without getting severely wounded.

He did kind of want to scream in frustration (or at least tell Ikumi where he'd hid the gun Takako had given him for Christmas that he'd never used).

…twenty minutes later, he was actually completely amped up for this fight, having already pictured it all in his mind—the burglars were two big guys, both taller and wider, but that'd never stopped him before, and he'd slam one into the wall while the other stood there, mouth agape. He'd turn to the other, say something witty or nonchalant to act like this sort of thing happened daily (actually it had, when he was a teenager) before pile-driving the guy, or maybe flipping him into the ground and stomping him.

Or Takako was standing there at his front door, looking cold. So much for his fight scene goddamnit.

Oh. Takako was there. She'd come to his house. Meaning she had gotten sick of waiting for him.

"About goddamn time!" Takako shouted, putting her hands on her hips. "Good lord, do you possess a _watch_?"

"Do you possess a device that is capable of transmitting messages over a radio link while moving around a wide geographic area?" Shinji retorted. "It's a shame someone hasn't invented one of those already. Oh, my bad. It has been invented. You scared Ikumi!"

Takako rolled her eyes. "I sorted it out with her already. Her deception earned her three pairs of my shoes. Her choice."

Shinji stared. "There was no burglar?"

"Nope. I got fucked on that shoe deal, though." She sighed, before apparently remembering what she'd bargained those shoes for _anyway_. "I bet you're wondering why I would do something like that."

"Can we at least do this in the house? I'm cold," Shinji complained, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. When Takako made absolutely no sign of moving, he sighed. "I'm all ears. Talk to me."

Takako wrapped her trenchcoat-style jacket around her more tightly, frowning at Shinji. "Because I didn't think you were going to show, and I… I really needed to talk to you. Like, seriously, Shinji, I was being such a—"

He grabbed her shoulders, effectively cutting her off, and she looked up at him with her mouth hanging open, her hands leaving her jacket to grab his. "We good?" she asked.

He stared at her for a moment, his right hand moving off her shoulder to hold the back of her neck. "Yeah," he said, finally, and she grinned and pulled him down to press her lips to his.

Her lips were cool but they warmed quickly as he slanted his mouth over hers, fumbling for his house key with one hand and threading his fingers through Takako's hair with the other.

* * *

Having a bedroom on the first floor was the best idea he'd ever had, because kissing Takako was the only thing he was really concentrating on right now and if he pushed her up/down a flight of stairs, well… that would not be good.

Anyway Takako seemed to have taken the upper hand somewhat as she seemed to be steering them, and even though she accidentally nearly murdered him pushing him against the wall ("Ow!" "You're fine!") she finally pulled back from him and started pulling his jacket open.

He really wanted to be naked but she was doing an absolutely terrible job undressing him and he liked his clothes, so he grabbed her hands and shoved her backwards onto his bed, focusing on yanking her clothes off first. If she was going to destroy his clothes he was at least going to have a nice view.

Under her coat she was thankfully wearing nothing complicated, just a sweater and a skirt, and he very quickly had her out of those and in her—

"Did you _buy lingerie_?" he asked, staring in disbelief at the skimpy whitish-pink combo she was sporting.

She blushed, tugging at her panties shyly. "Maybe. I got sick of you making fun of my hipsters." She rolled over, wiggling her butt at him most provocatively. "You like?"

"Did you go out of your way to find the only sexy hipster in the store?" he asked, rolling his eyes (but unable to keep the smile off his face), but he interrupted her response by pulling her panties down and tossing them behind him, making her squeal as he rolled her back over and pinned her underneath.

She smiled up at him, moving obediently to help him pull her bra off, and grabbed his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. "I missed you," she said off-handedly, her thumb running along his lower lip, and whatever evil cold icy forbidden part of Shinji's heart that Takako had yet to corrupt basically melted right then and there.

Then she grinned, ending the moment (for what it was) effectively. "Are you gonna get naked or do I have to do it for you?"

"As if you could," he muttered, nonetheless sitting up and pulling his zip-neck sweater off before unbuttoning his shirt.

"Woohoo. Gimme a show. Take it off," Takako chanted, waving her fists in a mock-cheer. "What? It's been like two days, Mimura, you've turned me into a nympho."

* * *

He knew the absolute last thing in the world Takako ever wanted to do was grovel and beg forgiveness for something she'd done. So he'd saved her the trouble. Just that she was willing to do something he knew she hated doing—admitting fault—she was going to do that for _him_, and it was enough.

Apparently being surprised by Takako was going to keep happening, because as he left the bathroom his eyebrows shot up to his hairline seeing Takako dressing herself in one of his t-shirts and looting through his dressers for (he assumed) a pair of pants.

"I thought you left," he said, making her jump and drop the pair she'd grabbed.

"I feel like a sleepover tonight," she answered, not looking at him, staring at the pants like they were the most interesting things in the world.

"This coming from the girl who's so incredibly busy she doesn't have time to eat breakfast in the morning. Since when do you want to spend the night?" He was feeling a bit uncomfortable having to explain this to her, but at the same time she was such a comfy little thing when she snuggled up to him in bed and he sure as hell wasn't going to turn that down.

Takako scowled. "I'm tired and I don't want to slink out of here like a slutty college student. As long as I shower and leave before 5:30, I won't miss my shift. I have extra scrubs in my locker at the hospital. And I'll just use your toothbrush. Any more questions?"

Shinji shrugged. "I like the left side."

Five minutes later, they were both in bed and uncomfortably trying to ignore the other's presence once again. Shinji hadn't knowingly shared a bed with anyone in years, occasionally falling asleep in bed with a one-night-stand (or Takako). But the whole falling asleep thing was taking some effort.

"This is weird."

Shinji rolled over to look at her, propping his arm behind his head. "I could say the same thing."

"Why?" Even in the dark he could tell she was scowling.

"You're not going to get mad again, are you?"

"No."

"Okay, crazy. You want no commitments and us fucking on the word go. You got mad at me when I spent the night… Now you're in my bed. Would you make up your mind? You are making my head spin."

Takako sighed. "It's not that hard. After you left I felt like crap. Then I figured we're… I like sleeping in the same bed as you. Besides it's not like we have anyone to answer to. We can make our own rules and if something feels weird, then we'll stop doing it. But I don't think sleeping in the same bed is weird."

"So, what, this isn't just us getting our rocks off?" Shinji asked. He was answered with a loooooooooooooong pause.

She was the worst fake sleeper he'd ever met.

But he'd come too far to let _that _bother him. He was bad enough at expressing feelings, the last thing he could ever do was expect it from someone else, particularly Takako.

Instead he scooted closer to her, closing the distance between them in his bed and pulled her close. If she was fake sleeping she couldn't protest against being snuggled.

* * *

Might have rushed their happy ending a bit, but them fighting is BORING! Fun stuff resumes next time :D


	7. Chapter 7

Ughhh this was single-handedly the most revised a chapter of this story has ever been! I went away from my original outline which I wrote over a year ago and apparently my brain has fried since then.

Enjoy; I write this at 10pm, and at 9:30pm I opened this document in a sense of obligation to FINISH IT AND GET IT OVER WITH! I was sick of looking at it and yet I managed to revise it into something I'm satisfied with.

* * *

He knew he was grinning like an idiot and he hardly cared as he got out of his bed, briefly throwing his blanket back over his bedspread in the impression of _making it, _and snuck into the bathroom like some sort of 6'2" naked ninja. The bathroom was all fogged up, he couldn't see his reflection in the mirror and the entire vicinity smelled like that cherry blossom body wash she always used, and hopefully she was having such a nice shower she had no idea what was coming.

Ha, coming. Then he shook his head—because he sounded like _Shuuya _—why did he still make so much fun of Shuuya? It wasn't like Shuuya needed to hatch elaborate schemes just to sleep with girls, like he now did. Old habits died hard.

"Is someone out there?" Takako demanded, and Shinji groaned, quietly. Goddamn Chigusa reflexes.

"Hey, if someone is out there, you'd better get ready for the fight of your life, you son-of-a—"

As amusing as it was to hear Takako bluff (…or _not_ bluff), Shinji decided to spare her from thinking of any more fight scene clichés and just pulled the blue shower curtain back. "It's me, you idiot."

"Oh fuck you, Shinji, I wanted to hit someone," Takako said, disappointment all over her face as she dropped the bottle of shampoo she'd been clutching.

Shinji just rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm coming in." Takako just shrugged, not seeming to care either way, and he frowned, not liking being ignored. "So you always bring an overnight bag with you when you impulsively come to someone's house?" he asked.

"I keep stuff in my car," Takako answered, looking over her shoulder at him, her curtain of wet hair sticking to her back. "That was so mean, what you did. I was thinking I had an epic fight scene coming."

"Who did you think it was, a killer?" Shinji asked, his breath hot on her ear as he kissed her neck.

"He could've killed you and gotten to me," Takako said defensively. "I mean, come on, Shinji, look at me. I'd kill someone to get to me too. I'm me."

"Get a load of the ego on this girl," Shinji chuckled. "Do us both a favor and turn around."

"No."

"No?"

"No. That is _not_ a good idea, it's the reason I was in here alone!" Shinji made a wordless sound conveying his offense, and she sighed. "It's not personal, idiot, I'm going to be all—sore and I'm supposed to be shadowing someone else today and I don't want to be limping! You are way too rough!"

He sighed, keeping his arms around her waist, kissing the top of her shoulder. "Fair enough."

Takako chuckled, reaching behind her and running her fingers through his wet hair. "Aw, Shinji, don't sound so glum. I'll make it up to you when I get off."

"Gonna have to better than _that_."

"We can both get off?" Takako offered.

"You sound like the tagline of a terrible porno."

Takako bit her lip, trying to avoid Shinji's pleading expression, and a wicked grin spread across her face. "I've always wanted to try this on you…"

"Try what?" Shinji asked suspiciously, but Takako just grinned wider and squatted down, scooting closer until her breath was on his chest. She pressed a kiss under his navel and he groaned, feeling his abdominal muscles tense and tremble beneath her lips. If she did what he was hoping she'd do, he was pretty sure he was going to lose his— oh _fuck_.

"Am I… doing this right?" Takako asks innocently, fisting her hand around the base of his cock, and it took Shinji Mimura and all his brilliance a moment to gather his thoughts and realize his dick was in Takako's mouth and what the fuck was going on because in all the years he'd known her, he'd never once stopped to let himself imagine for a fraction of a second that someday in the near future Takako Chigusa would be blowing him in his shower.

It wasn't even that she worked him like a pro, because she really didn't (he was tempted to say she _sucked_, but the pun was just so awful he couldn't bring himself to vocalize it)—first time, obviously, and thinking about _that_just about finished him off better than any of Takako's ministrations—but just the way she was so enthusiastic about it, pressing her lips around him, tugging on him with her mouth and positively grinning around his dick WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON.

He shut his eyes and fought back the urge to grab her hair and guide her along, because he was pretty sure that will make her _angry_.

He ended up grabbing her hair. As he predicted, it did make her angry.

* * *

Apparently starting the morning off being blown by Takako Chigusa was enough to make the rest of the day's happenings irrelevant. (Ikumi had glared at him when he'd finally gone into the kitchen to fix himself some breakfast, but even the idea that his younger sister was grossed out by his behavior wasn't enough to ruin his high. If she was a _true_ Mimura she'd be happy for him goddammit—)

"MIM," shouted Shuuya, banging his hand on the table, and Shinji stirred to attention, very nearly spilling his drink (which he'd been gripping onto). "Oi. Earth to Mim, unless you want me ordering for you."

Shinji winced. "Sorry, Shu. Just had a… good morning."

Shuuya narrowed his eyes. "Is it 'go to work drunk' day? Goddamn it I need to get a job, you guys always celebrate that without me and I feel left out!"

"Takako blew me in the shower," Shinji said, because the truth would suit him far better than a lie.

Much to his annoyance, Shuuya just snickered. "Hah. Congratulations on turning 16, Mim."

"What the hell does that mean?" Shinji asked, insulted (still not used to the poles swapping, otherwise known as Shuuya having more sex in a _day_ than he did in a month).

"When you're having as much sex as I am in a day—every position, all over the house, mind you—you become desensitized to this sorta thing," Shuuya answered snootily. "So nice that Yukie works nights, she helps me work on my lyrics all morning—"

"Is that a metaphor for having sex? Because it's a lame one."

Shuuya ignored that. "She's my muse, she helps me think o' stuff to write about. It's harder than it looks, Mim, let's see _you_ create something outta nothing."

Shinji rolled his eyes, deciding not to comment on the successful software business he'd created, and instead stirred his drink up absentmindedly. "I've got other things on my mind. You would do well to hope I never pick up songwriting, because I'd probably be better than you at it."

"I'll believe that one when I see it." Shuuya grinned. "Then again you do have that unrequited love thing goin' on, you could milk some serious emotion from that…"

"You make it sound much lamer than it really is. I'm not going to go chasing Takako trying to get her to be in a relationship with me. She's not interested."

"You should just tell Takako that you love her and ask her out already, what's she gonna do, say no? She's already sleeping with you." Shuuya felt like he'd said this before (he had).

"Spoken like a man who knows where his next thousand lays are coming from," Shinji answered, rather defensively. "You and Yukie were love at first sight, Takako would rather gouge my eyes out than agree to go on a date with me. Can you imagine us on a date? Holding hands? Going to the movies?"

"I thought you were, like, this super-suave ladies' man," Shuuya commented, chewing on his straw.

"Wouldn't be the first time someone called me that," Shinji mused, staring out into space.

Shuuya chuckled. "Ladies' man thwarted by Takako Chigusa. Oi, Mim, you're like a cliché, the ladies' man aaaalways gets played by the one girl he _can't_ get, and then he has to undergo some big cathartic journey to try and win her over. You're basically a rom-com now. I should tell Yutaka, maybe he can write a screenplay about you…"

"Shuuya," Shinji said, now annoyed.

"And if he does write a movie about you, then I can star as the awesome misunderstood best friend with a _band, _and I can play at the reception, and then everyone'll wanna book Wild Seven and I'll be so successful I'll never have to worry about money again _and_ Yukie's dad will stop calling to tell her that _it's never too long to fix a mistake_ and—"

"I think you're getting real life confused with fantasy, dumbass," Shinji commented. "Besides, you want your big break to come from playing a _wedding singer_ in a rom-com? That's a new low, Shu."

Shuuya shrugged. "Mim, there comes a time in a man's life when he realizes there are certain things he values more than shame or respect. For example I'd rather everyone thinks I'm an idiot with his head in the clouds than be one o' them damn soulless lifeless zombies you call _employees_—"

"Shu, there is a reason I offered to buy you lunch, and it wasn't to listen to you wax poetically about the disappointment caused by your career choices," Shinji interrupted.

"I know, Mim. S'cause you couldn't stand to be away from my awesome face for longer than twenty-four hours. I mean, can't say I blame ya, but my wife _is _rather fond of me, and—"

"Shu, goddamn it. You know what I'm about to say."

Shuuya sighed. "Mim, come on. I don't wanna hear it."

"You don't wanna hear it, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't hear it. Shuuya, you need to find a damn job. Potential rock star is not exactly something you can put on your tax exemption forms. And you're wasting time. Ever planning on _using_ that marketing degree?"

Shuuya groaned. "I just keep thinking there's something out there, that's _not_ a boring corporate job! I'm not meant to sit in a damn cube all day, Mim, I dunno how you do it—and besides, what if there is something for me out there, and I miss it? What if the universe has some big plan for me and I blow it slaving away at a 9-5 job?"

Shinji tapped his fingers on the table impatiently. "Shu, you've been helping me with some shit I'm very ill-equipped to handle—"

"Because you're emotionally stunted and caring about a girl is causing your programming to short-circuit—"

Wisely choosing to ignore that, Shinji continued. "You are not _completely _unqualified for this position. I'm not sure why I'm even bothering to suggest it, but…. We could use a bit of a boost, and I think you'd be a good office administrator."

Shuuya's eyes had gotten wide. "An _administrator_!?"

Shinji shrugged. "Sure. Office admins are more for morale anyway. Planning work assignments, supervising everyone, overseeing wear and tear to make sure they're not breaking things. You'd just have to get the department heads to sign off on it. And if you ever have any good ideas you could pitch them, because it's not completely unlikely you'll have a good idea once you start working."

Shuuya was quiet, very quiet, so uncharacteristically quiet Shinji was beginning to think he'd shorted his best friend's brain out. "Shu."

"I'm deciding," Shuuya huffed, holding a hand up for silence. "Look, I gotta talk to Yukie about this… nor do I approve of blatant nepotism in the workplace—" Shinji snorted, which made him scowl—"but it never hurts to work a 9-5 just to get some money while I figure out what I'm going to do in the world. So… I leave you with that."

"All right then," Shinji answered pleasantly. "Do you want me to, I don't know, get you some paperwork to look over? Or—"

Shuuya cringed. "Ey, leave the marketing to me, a'ight? I'm the one who's an expert at it. You just worry about marketing your fine ass to Takako." He paused. "Please don't tell anyone I said that."

"Said _what_?"

"I take it back, Mim. You are a pro."

* * *

Executive summary, executive summary… the new software was supposed to be pitched to possible investors tomorrow afternoon, which gave Shinji until tomorrow morning exactly to finish it up.

And now that _that _scheduling conflict was done and over with… he could either get file that paperwork that had been bothering him, rearrange his office again, deal with whatever it was that was buzzing inside his curtain, or do what he usually did at work, play Spider Solitaire.

Spider Solitaire it was. He was almost glad he got paid for the work he did and not hourly, because stealing company time from _his own company_ seemed like a real counterproductive action.

Then his phone rang, and he answered, balancing it between his shoulder and his ear. "Hello, Shinji Mimura speaking—"

"I am so horny right now."

Shinji paused. "Can't… quite help you with that, Pop. You asking for a recommendation, or—"

"_Shinji_? Oh, fuck." Kensei Mimura, always a pleasure. Except not really.

"Nice to hear from you too. You might've noticed I introduced myself when I picked up the phone. My therapist will most definitely be informed of this conversation."

"Very funny, Shinji. How've you been, son?"

"Never better. Isn't there someone you need to speak with? Seemed urgent."

"Shinji, I've been meaning to call you. I'm getting married."

Shinji paused. "And yet you're calling random people and telling them you're horny. That seems counterproductive. Unless you're going for a five-time-divorced lifetime achievement."

His father sighed. "Shinji, I know you're probably not happy to hear from me, but it would mean a lot to me if you and Ikumi came. I haven't seen Ikumi since she turned sixteen, I would like to see my daughter at my wedding."

"I'll pass the message along. Or you could just call her. I wouldn't recommend greeting her the way you greeted me, though. Kinda jarring."

"Shinji goddamn it. I'm serious. Be an adult about this, please."

Nothing really pissed him off more than his father's guts, and here he was, sitting in the fancy office he'd worked his ass off listening to his father talk to him like he was a child. No fucking way. "Excuse me for calling bullshit, Pop. Unless you haven't grown tired of signing alimony checks yet."

"You're my son. Ikumi is my daughter. We might have had our differences over the years, but that doesn't mean you two aren't welcomed at my wedding. I want you kids there. This one is going to last."

"I'll catch the next one." Grudgingly, he added, "but I will tell Ikumi. Don't hold your breath on that one."

"Yes, I'm sure I know whose side she's on here." Kensei was silent for a few moments, and Shinji checked the phone to see if his father had hung up. No such luck. "Shinji, my fiancée wants you to speak at the wedding. I suggested she _meet you_ first."

Shinji openly snorted. "What, are you serious? What the hell does she want me to say? Wish you luck on number three?"

"I can see this isn't going anywhere. Call me when you grow up, son." The line went dead.

Shinji inhaled furiously, willing himself to calm down as he set his phone down, resting his head in his hands. Motherfucker. Years of trained forced frosty calm tranquility flushed down the toilet thanks to one call from his damn father.

Like fuck he was going to call Ikumi, that was a conversation he'd have in person. But it was 4:30pm and any kind of work he was going to get done sure as fuck wasn't going to get done now.

The toy zen sand garden Shuuya had given him for Christmas—complete with calming stones and a little rake to rake the sand up with—was mocking his forced tranquility. Instead he crumpled the closest piece of paper he could reach and chucked it at his basketball hoop, and seeing the paper ball sail through the makeshift hoop made him smile a little.

His phone beeped, reminding him to charge it, and picking up his phone made him remember something else. Someone else, rather. Someone who could always cheer him up even when she tried her hardest to do the exact opposite.

She was either working or sleeping but either way words would be necessary to get what he wanted and he had none. So he settled for a basic message that would get his point across without belaboring the underlining objective here.

"?"

He drummed his fingers impatiently, willing himself not to stare at his screen (but he did anyway).

Five long, agonizing minutes passed until his screen lit up again, and he dropped his zen garden rake hastily before reaching for his phone. He made himself count to five _slowly_ before he checked his phone.

"!"

He'd take that as a yes.

* * *

She'd answered the door, and looked like hell. His comment about missing the lingerie had been answered with a smack.

"I was taking a nap, since some people have to work for a living," she said, glaring at him as he rubbed his wounded shoulder gingerly. "You're lucky I'm bored, by the way. What's with you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He considered telling her, but he was here for one thing and _talking_ was not currently on his agenda. "Tell you later," he told her, crossing the distance between them and cutting her off with a kiss.

* * *

"Did you tell anyone about us?" Takako asked suddenly, rolling over and frowning at Shinji.

"Shuuya." Shinji glanced at her. "All right, in my defense, he figured it out. I didn't tell him anything."

"I should get to tell someone." Takako scowled.

"Tell whoever you want. Take out a billboard downtown. Rent an airplane and tell the world." Shinji yawned. "I'm tired."

"You can stay, just don't cry when you wake up and I'm not here," Takako told him, smirking. "I'm not gonna lie, Shinji, this is kinda fun."

"What, promising to marry me after you've fucked me?"

"That and this whole… sex thing. I should've fucked you way sooner." She grinned, sitting up and digging in her bedside drawer for another condom, and threw it at him, turning towards him expectantly. "Hurry the hell up."

Shinji was up (pun not intended) and ready to go in approximately four seconds, and he tackled her, kissing her and pinning her to her bed underneath him. "I actually came by here to talk to you about something."

"I know," Takako told him between heavy gasps, rolling them both over and squirming to get on top of him. "I'll ask you later when we have our clothes on."

"But I—" Takako clamped her hand over his mouth, moving her hips pointedly. Shinji nodded and grabbed her hips, moving his hands behind her to grab her ass.

* * *

He ignored his stomach grumbling, ignored that he really had to pee, ignored that his iPhone was in his abandoned pants and he could hear his missed call _beep_ at minute intervals. He was actually beginning to consider a nap when Takako shifted beside him, pushing up on his chest and getting out of bed.

"I have to go," she said, glancing at him as she put her bra back on.

"Oh, right. Work." Shinji had forgotten, and his previous blissful zen went down the drain. "If I told you I was having a heart attack right now, would that change things?"

"No." Takako frowned. "Pink or blue scrubs? I hate not being able to wear actual clothes. I feel like a slob rolling up in these things every day." She scowled at him. "Not that I mind the picture of you in my bed, naked guy, but you need to get going unless you want to be a surprise for Hiroki when he gets home. No offense, but I think that'll probably traumatize the shit out of him."

"Why? He's seen my penis."

Takako actually looked like she wanted to hear the story behind _that one_, but thought otherwise. "Aren't you supposed to be cooking for your sister tonight? And what was that big _thing _you needed to talk to her about?"

Shinji sighed, getting out of bed and going for his pants, bending down to pick them up. "Take a picture, Chigusa, it'll last longer."

"Maybe later." She shooed him out of her room, pushing him in front of her and smacking his ass in a rare moment of playfulness. "Mimura, I know something's eating you. What happened?"

"My dad's getting married." Shinji shrugged.

She made a face. "Why is everyone getting married? Is there an impending apocalypse I don't know about?"

"You did just sleep with me after I texted you an exclamation point," Shinji pointed out.

"Very true. But I know what's bugging you know, those abandonment issues again," Takako said knowledgably, nodding her pretty head. "Okay. Look, Mim, I'm a doctor, not a shrink, so no promises I can fix whatever deep-seeded problems you have. But I'll call you later."

Shinji chuckled. "Not really much to say on the subject."

"And if I believed you, I would be adding to those abandonment issues." Takako shook her head, digging for her keys. "Besides, I'm probably gonna get bored later… I need you on call." She raised her eyebrows suggestively and offered him a rare grin.

That made him laugh. "What if I said going on a date with me would erase the abandonment issues entirely?"

"I would go to work, which is in fact the exact reason I keep telling you I'm not going to date you," Takako replied promptly, getting in her car. "See ya!"

Shinji watched her drive off, mostly amused. There was no way it was going to be _that_ easy.

* * *

I want to say... five or six more to go, but who knows for sure, I might have another idea along the way. :D Stay tuned!


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey, there you are," Ikumi said, looking over her shoulder at him as he walked through the front door, raising his hand in a greeting. "I ordered pizza."

"With my credit card?" Shinji asked suspiciously, rolling his eyes when his sister nodded in confirmation. "We get any good mail?"

"Just a letter or something from dad, thought I'd wait for you to get home before we opened it," Ikumi answered dismissively, turning back to the TV. "How does he have your address?"

"He and mom both have it, I had to tell them where I was keeping you when I got custody," he answered, flipping through the mail and finding the small envelope customary for mailing wedding invitations. "Be full, the joys of spring," he commented, shaking his head at the fancy card inside. At Ikumi's confused look, he grinned. "We're getting a new step-mother."

"Really," said Ikumi, false-enthusiasm at maximum. "Is she another secretary?"

"Probably. But the wedding's on Saturday."

"SATURDAY?" Ikumi yelped.

"What?" Shinji asked, taken aback by this unexpected display.

"That's not giving me any time," Ikumi complained.

"You want to go to this thing?" Shinji asked incredulously.

"Well, I mean, we had fun at Shu and Yukie's," Ikumi pointed out, "and he _is_our father, even if we don't like him…"

Shinji remained unconvinced. "Yeah, all right. What's the real reason?"

Ikumi's cheeks were pink. "Um, uh, I kind of wanted to ask someone to go with me. This gives me a great reason to ask him out. I don't want to be alone at my dad's wedding, right?"

Shinji shook his head in disappointment. "Are you not a Mimura, woman? Mimuras do not need tactics and plays to get a woman—err, _guy _in your case—to go out with them. They flock to you, you're supposed to be beating them away with a stick, not feigning enthusiasm over a stupid wedding for—_what is so funny_? These are the sacred teachings of our ancestors!"

"Do you hear yourself?" Ikumi laughed, "Shinji you're going on about that but you seriously can't even ask out Takako, who you're _in love with_—every time you hang out with her you've got a plan!"

"I am not in love with her," Shinji began, but his little sister had him all figured out already so why bother protesting. "Shut up."

"_Sacred teachings of our ancestors_ my ass, didn't Uncle Hajime used to tell you to stop being such a man-slut and find a nice girl? And you met Takako the year after that, didn't you?"

Shinji scoffed. "No. Don't be ridiculous." He paused. "It was six months later. Three months after he died. But that doesn't mean I gave a second thought to what he said." He gave a _lot_ of thought to the last meaningful thing his uncle ever said to him, but he wasn't going to feed his sister ammunition to make fun of him.

Ikumi just grinned. "Why don't you ask her, brother? I bet you don't wanna be all alone either… then again I'm sure dad's new girlfriend or whatever is younger than you are so she probably has some hot friends—"

"When you get like this, I almost regret the way I make fun of Shuuya," Shinji said, sighing. "Forget I said anything."

"You tell me things! I'm just telling you what I think," Ikumi pointed out. "She gave up three pairs of her shoes for my silence, Shinji, what does that say?"

"I've asked her out before. She keeps saying no. At some point there comes a time when a man needs to cut his losses and move on."

"When's that going to be, ten _more _years from now?"

Shinji opened his mouth to offer some sort of rebuttal, found no words, and instead pointed menacingly at his sister.

Takako was working and even though she told him to stay on call, the urge to climb into bed was overwhelming. There was nothing quite like your little sister blowing holes through your façade to really just completely demoralize you.

* * *

He got his wish around 11:30pm, when the loud buzzing of his phone woke him from his surprisingly deep sleep. He grunted, reaching for his phone and smirking a little at the message.

He was pulling up to the hospital drop-off/pick-up area twenty minutes later, and Takako was standing there waiting for him, her hands in her jacket pockets and a scowl on her pretty face.

"Took you long enough," Takako said, shaking her head. "I only have a half hour break."

"Good thing you called me in advance, then. Parking lot?"

"Parking lot sounds good."

* * *

They sat there in the front seat of Shinji's car, arms around each other, Shinji really trying to pull his mood out from _blegh _up to _beautiful girl wanting to have sex with you_, but what Ikumi said about him was clearly messing with his head. He wanted to be with Takako, he didn't want to be sneaking around in cars with her. Maybe one of Ikumi's evil plans would eventually come in handy but he was still determined to win her over.

However not paying attention to her and continually getting distracted every time she kissed him or tried doing anything really was clearly pissing her off, and he could tell her fuse was rapidly burning. She was going to explode in a very short period of—

"What is wrong with you, Shinji?" Takako asked impatiently, pulling back finally. "Is this about your dad's wedding?"

"How do you know about that?" Shinji asked.

"Ikumi asked if she could borrow a pair of shoes," Takako answered, "still creeps me out that your kid sister fits into all of my things but whatever, you fucking Mimuras are some sort of biological monsters. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to, but then I got distracted when we wound up naked and having sex, and then you kicked me out because you had to go to work." Shinji paused. "That and you like hearing this kind of thing as much as I like talking about it. Which is, not at all."

Takako shrugged. "If you're upset that everyone around you is getting married and you're not, well, think of it this way. Maybe the third time will be the charm for your dad. If that's the case, maybe that runs in the family and it'll only take you three times too."

Shinji rolled his eyes. "Do you console dying patients? Or do they hide you away in a storage cabinet when someone actually needs to encourage someone to keep fighting the good fight?"

Takako smacked his arm. "Shut up. I'm not used to having to coddle you like with Hiroki."

Shinji just shrugged. "Hiroki's all man, no shame in it." He smirked suddenly. "Hey. You cheered me up. So…"

He winked at her once before dipping his head between her legs, and Takako squeaked so loudly she actually covered her mouth with her hand, her other hand raking through Shinji's hair.

* * *

"I miss your truck from college, we could really spread out in that," Takako said, sitting up and rubbing her neck before attempting to tie her hair back up into something resembling a bun.

"Should've just gone to a hotel," Shinji answered, stretching his bad leg experimentally. "Not quite as flexible as I used to be."

"You're the martyr who keeps pushing me on the bottom," Takako complained, getting dressed quickly and checking her watch. "Fuck me, we still have five minutes. Guess I'll head back early then." She frowned suddenly, looking unsure of herself, and Shinji raised an eyebrow before she spoke again. "Um, what are you doing tomorrow?"

"Having my day disrupted by whatever it is you want me to do?" Shinji offered.

Takako shrugged. "I just figured… you can't show up without a present. You'll look way more like the guilt-inducing prodigal son if you show up with a gift. He expects you to show up surly and empty-handed, right? Prove him wrong."

"Where were you when I was fourteen?" Shinji asked, chuckling. Takako grinned, seemingly pleased with herself, and hopped out of the car. "See you tomorrow?" he offered.

She nodded, leaning down and kissing him goodbye quickly. Then before she even had time to look embarrassed she pasted an easy scowl on her face and walked off back towards the hospital, pulling at the undershirt she wore beneath her scrubs distractedly.

* * *

"Hello!" greeted Hiroki, looking over at Takako from the couch. "You go shopping?"

"Yeah, Shinji wanted help picking out a present for his dad's thing tomorrow, whatever. You want a beer? I want a beer."

Hiroki blinked, accepting the beer his best friend threw at him with an inaudible 'thank you', and looked at her in bewilderment as she settled on the armchair and propped her feet up on the table. "Something bad happen?"

Takako's known about his dad's third wedding to some 25-year-old bimbo for exactly two days now. She knows he's the best man, despite being a year older than his future stepmother. She knows he's been agonizing over his best man speech, torn between sneaking insults in at his father or finding a way to take the higher road. She already got the text from Ikumi asking if she could borrow a pair of heels for the wedding, because she had a _date_.

If Ikumi can bring a date than clearly Shinji could as well. He had a plus one, and the fact that he hasn't asked her, or even mentioned it in passing, irks her so much she can hardly stand it. She spent all day shopping with him for a stupid present! He ended up deliberately picking something he thought his father would _hate_!

It's not that she even wants to go. From what little Shinji had said of his father, she'd gathered the man was not exactly a prizewinner, and contributed very little to making Shinji the man he was today (other than physical appearances, and from being the brother to the beloved uncle who had taught Shinji everything shady and illegal that he knew). But the fact that he hadn't even considered _her_ is a bothersome fact in itself.

Was he going to show up alone, sit there and sulk, and drink everything in sight? Or was he going to hook up with every bridesmaid he could find? She didn't know what bothered her more.

Why was she so irritated at this?

Much to her annoyance, she realized this situation now warranted her attention. Normally she'd just grab Shinji by his non-pierced ear and threaten him with bodily harm until he went along with her demands.

"TAKA," said Hiroki loudly, and Takako jumped, distracted from her murky swarm of angry thoughts. "Fuck, I thought you were having a seizure or something, you were sitting there looking angry and your face was changing colors."

"That's not a seizure," Takako said crossly, "do you even _read _the medical journals I buy you for your birthday?"

"No?" Hiroki offered. "Was I supposed to? I thought those were gag gifts."

"Excuse me for trying to teach you the fundamentals of medical care," Takako said, taking a long pull from her beer. "I figure you're getting married and having kids or whatever, you should know this stuff. What if one of your little karate kids starts dying and you don't know how to save them?"

"You are acting strange," Hiroki decided, his attention going back to the TV. He'd known Takako for so long it was like she was _screaming_ I AM VERY ANGRY RIGHT NOW but she had acted like the safety of the children in his instruction wasn't his top priority so she could just sit there and simmer.

"Shinji didn't ask me to his dad's stupid wedding," Takako complained, making him jump. _That was easy._

"What has been going on with you guys? Are you dating behind everyone's backs?" Hiroki asked suspiciously.

"No!" Takako said, her expression screaming YES because she was never good at that sort of thing. "I meant, you know, as friends. Like he'd rather go sit alone at some wedding he doesn't even want to attend because he'd rather do that than see me as a woman instead of one of you guys."

Hiroki chuckled. "Yeah, but Mim knows better than to treat you the way he normally treats girls. You'd kick his ass."

He meant that as a flippant throwaway sort of question (even though he really didn't mean it; he teased Shinji about his womanizing but considering Shinji left the girls on dry land with adequate transportation, they had nothing to complain about). But Takako certainly didn't seem all that pleased…

Maybe Shuuya's ridiculous THEY ARE HOOKING UP BEHIND EVERYONE ELSE'S BACKS story had some merit after all. But it wasn't like he could just _ask_ her, because Takako would never divulge something like—

"Taka, are you having sex with Mim?"

"Yup."

"I knew it!"

* * *

It was the day before the big wedding. Last night over dinner (Mitsuko had spent the night and tried to cook; the key word was _tried_, and poor Hiroki had spent an hour trying to scrape the carbonized fish out of their stove) Hiroki had put on _Wedding Crashers_ to psychologically torment her, and Takako hadn't realized Shinji's blow-off had been on her mind all day until she accidentally squeezed a patient's arm so tightly the poor man thought he'd already received his needle.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry," Takako apologized, "I, um—I just, um, I'm so strong, you see…"

"Whatever," the patient muttered, "can you just stick me and get it over with, please? What's on your mind, doctor?"

Takako chuckled darkly, removing the original needle and depositing it in the biohazard box before replacing it with a new one. "You don't want to hear my problems."

"No, really, anything to distract me," the patient said, and Takako shrugged, taking hold of his arm again.

"This guy I've been—not _seeing_, we're basically just sex friends—I know he likes me, at least enough to want to go out with me, but his father's getting married and he didn't invite me, and I find it very irritating that he's not trying to date me again. I mean, come on. Look at me."

"All I see is the needle," the patient answered nervously. "Well it sounds like he's just using you for sex. Maybe you should stop sleeping with him until he starts actually treating you with the respect you deserve." He blinked. "Why am I discussing this with my doctor? Aren't you supposed to be fixing me?"

"Buddy, I will fix you in ways you can't even begin to comprehend. Also, I can't do that, this whole thing was my idea."

"I'm confused," the patient said, "it sounds like you knew this guy liked you and you slept with him on purpose to get over the _other_ guy and now that you're in a pickle—OW!"

Takako had stuck him with the needle. "I enjoyed that far more than I should have. Stop properly diagnosing my problems. What are you, a shrink?"

"You're both civilized adults, why don't you just tell him you want to go with him?" the patient asked, looking on as she stuck a purple bandage over his skin.

"Because I don't want to go! I'd just like to be asked." She paused. "Hey, I just saw that screen, don't you _dare _text someone and say _my doctor is crazy_—"

* * *

She'd squeezed a can of soda so tightly it burst, and it was when one of the nurses sheepishly asked if 'everything was alright, Dr. Chigusa' that she decided something must be done. She merely grinned widely at the nurse—giving the woman nightmare fuel for the next few months—and went back about her business.

It was times like these she really wish she had more friends, or at least someone to confide in who wasn't also friends with Shinji (HIROKI FUCKING SUGIMURA). She couldn't keep holding her patients hostage and telling them her life story, she was starting to think that was somehow in violation of her Hypocratic Oath.

She'd been driving home when she realized her hands had possessed the steering wheel and somehow driven her into the direction of Shinji Mimura's house; and she was getting out of her car and knocking on his front door before she even realized exactly what she was going to say.

Ikumi answered the door, rolled her eyes and yelled for her brother, and in five minutes they had both determined they were more hungry than they were horny and were headed off to get some dinner.

"Excited about the big day?"

"How could you tell?" Shinji asked, rolling his eyes.

Takako shrugged, found she had nothing else to say-nothing that her pride would let her say, anyway-and managed to keep quiet for all of three seconds before the waiter asked her if she wanted something to drink, and she found she couldn't hold her tongue any longer.

Somewhere in the back of her head, the part of her with pride and dignity is cringing, but a bigger part just needed to know. "Are you planning on doing that Wedding Crashers thing at your dad's wedding tomorrow?"

The waiter sighs, sensing he has walked in on something he doesn't want to know about, but she ignores him—uncommon behavior, she is normally exceedingly polite to the service industry, having been there before herself—watching Shinji instead.

He looks so surprised it must be genuine, and she mentally slaps herself upside the head for accidentally giving him the idea. "Um, water and iced tea, please," he said to the waiter off-handedly, before looking back at Takako. "What? No. What gave you that idea?"

"So you're seriously going alone? You're going to sit there in a wedding party full of women our age and you're not going to try and sleep with them?" Takako asked, wanting to go out back into the alley and beat herself senseless with a brass knuckle for sounding so _needy_.

"No, that wasn't the plan." He eyed her suspiciously. "Where's all this coming from?"

"Nowhere!" Takako snapped. "Stop annoying me." She picks up the menu and props it up in front of her, hiding her face.

Shinji pulled the menu down and stared at her, unblinking. "Takako." His voice is edging on playful, like she's a kid he's trying to appease. "Did you want to come with me?"

"Not even a little."

"You can if you want." His mouth was twitching to keep the smirk away, she could tell.

Takako was staring determinedly at the table, but glanced up once. He was now smirking at her. "I don't want to."

"I'm surprised you're bringing it up. I _was_ going to ask you if you wanted to go, y'know. Keep me company, create a distraction while I swap out the music and replace it with my own picks. Like the Weird Al collection." He chuckled.

She blinked. "Why didn't you?" she asked.

He laughed. "Do you really need me to answer that? What happens when I usually ask you out?"

She blew out her breath and couldn't help being a little annoyed. "If you wanted me to go as your friend to support you or keep you company or whatever, I would've said yes."

"Eh. I figured you'd think it was a date immediately, get all defensive and run off." He raised an eyebrow. "Is this a date in your world? Everyone you meet is going to think we're together."

"No," Takako said immediately. "I don't care. We can go as friend, I could do you that honor. I'm a big enough person. Also if you're going to be gone all afternoon I am going to be _bored_."

Shinji chuckled. "Right. It won't be so bad. You're going to love my speech…"

* * *

"Son of a bitch, Mimura, if you're late to your own father's wedding that will be reason _enough_ for him to hate you—" Takako's incessant door-banging was interrupted by the door swinging open, and Shinji caught her fist easily before she bashed him in the nose.

"Aren't you a peach," he said, shaking his head. "Ikumi's dragging her ass. As usual."

"Screw you!" Ikumi whined, "you're not the one who got stuck in this ugly dress because I waited too long to go shopping. I don't want Yamada seeing me like this!"

"If he's anything like Shinji he's just thinking about what's _under_ the dress," Takako told her, making Shinji scowl (it was true, but he didn't like thinking about guys like _him_ around girls like _his little sister_). "For example, he still hasn't complimented me on how _I _look, and I've hit a new standard. I'm pretty sure Vogue wants to put me on the cover. Or I could at least pose for a sexy doctor's calendar."

"Do they even have one of those?" Shinji wondered.

"Don't change the subject, Shinji, how does she look?" Ikumi asked, smirking. Sometimes he was rather frightened that his little sister was an exact replica of himself, only younger and female, and he was having those thoughts now as he narrowed his eyes at her smirking face.

Instead he turned his back on his sister, stood in front of Takako, and pointedly looked her up and down. Which he'd be more than happy to do, if it wasn't for the expectant look on her face and the giggles coming from his kid sister. Felt like there was a spotlight beating down on him.

"You look… incredible," Shinji said finally. Ikumi snickered and he resisted the urge to stomp on her foot, if only because she was wearing Takako's heels and Takako would tear his chest cavity open and devour his heart if he ruined a pair of her shoes.

"I know," Takako answered, stepping closer and reaching out to fix his tie for him. "Got your speech?"

Shinji grinned. "Wouldn't leave home without it. I left blanks so I can sub in the _next_bride's name at the fourth wedding."

"You are such an ass," Ikumi said, shaking her head.

* * *

Ikumi has been living with Shinji all this time, I just cut some of her scenes because it was less exposition and more filler. Bye-bye, Ikumi!

She is friends with Takako so I'll probably have her pop up more often.


	9. Chapter 9

It has been... 84 days since I updated this story! D:

* * *

Probably would have gone off twice more had Takako's stupid phone not run out of charge before she could finish dialing phone call number eight.

She reminded herself to never play poker with Shinji Mimura, because the man didn't miss a beat, simply letting the phone ring under the guise of trying to find it in either pocket before shrugging his shoulders and continuing with his speech, which was every bit as manipulative, passive-aggressive and underhanded as she'd hoped.

He also cut a striking figure in that suit, but she promptly decided it was only because she was so used to seeing him _naked_, and not because she had apparently developed an attraction to well-dressed guys in suits overnight or anything.

She took another drink of champagne. Nope.

* * *

"So, Miss Chigusa," said Kensei Mimura, smiling politely at Takako. "My son hasn't introduced us yet, so allow me. It's a pleasure."

"Hello," said Takako, nodding her head politely. "Thank you for having me. _Dr. _Chigusa, by the way. Shinji must not have told you I'm a doctor."

"He hasn't told me anything. My son lives his life and I have the pleasure of guessing what that may entail." Kensei shook his head in amusement. "So you're Shinji's girlfriend?"

"Hmm, no," Takako answered plainly. "We're sex friends."

Kensei blinked.

"You know. Fuck buddies. Friends with benefits. Bed dates. That sort of thing." She twirled a piece of hair around her finger, sighing. "It's not conventional, but it works."

"Hey, you keep talking to a pretty young thing and I might get jealous," whined Shinji's new step-mother, attaching herself to an unamused Kensei's arm. "Miss Chigusa, you having fun?"

"Dr. Chigusa. And it's the best wedding I've attended this year," Takako replied, which actually wasn't a lie.

There was a long pause, one in which Takako drained her champagne flute and tried to ignore Kensei and WhateverHerNameWas exchanging some sort of sad attempt at couple ESP. She could always tell couple ESP, Shuuya and Yukie could read each other's minds (impressive in Shuuya's case, but Takako supposed Yukie just heard a dial tone when she read Shuuya's mind. Or some Springsteen song. Whatever. She did not want to imagine the thoughts that ran through Shuuya Nanahara's mind).

"Kensei, we can tell Shinji's girlfriend, right?" Whats-her-name looked at Takako. "We have a special surprise we haven't told _anyone_ yet."

Kensei looked nervous. "Oh, ah, Miss Chigusa isn't _dating_ Shinji, she's his, ah—"

Takako had always been a very good judge of character, which was one of many reasons as to why high school was difficult and lonely, but she was an even better judge of _stupid_. And she had a sinking suspicion that the new Mr. and Mrs. Kensei Mimura were planning something particularly stupid.

"_Dr. Chigusa_. And I'm his sex friend," Takako finished, smiling brightly. "_Surprise_?"

"Ooh, I don't know if we should tell you, you might tell Shinji!" Mrs. Mimura looked uneasy.

"Your secret is safe with me. Quite frankly I'm not terribly interested so I'll probably forget." Takako frowned, rubbing her shoulder. "This champagne isn't quite doing it for me. Need beer. Or vodka cranberry."

"Vodka cranberry sounds delicious," sighed Shinji's step-mother, rubbing her stomach pointedly. "But I probably shouldn't…"

This conversation was boring Takako, so her senses weren't as acute as they normally were, but she didn't miss _that_ obvious attempt for attention. "Stomachache?"

"No, alcohol is bad for babies," the other woman explained slowly, as if talking to a two-year-old and not Shiroiwa's finest doctor (if Dr. Chigusa, M.D., said so herself, and SHE DID, DAMMIT).

"You're expecting?" Takako asked, her voice getting dangerously high-pitched which only meant death was imminent.

(Somewhere far away, Shuuya Nanahara flinched. He had heard this voice far too many times in twenty-six years.)

"Not yet. But we're expecting to! Right, darling?"

"Only if you promise to work outside the house so I can be a stay-at-home father," Kensei agreed, smiling widely. "Can't completely forget about retirement…"

Takako held up a hand for silence. "I know we just met. But if I could say something… this really is not my place, actually. I mean, who am I? I'm just a doctor who has sex with your son sometimes. More than sometimes. Often."

Whatsername looked confused (not much of an expression change, really). "Excuse me?"

Takako rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Do I need to sign off on a prescription for crazy pills? Why would you think bringing a child into the world would be a good idea? Name two reasons."

"Looks like someone made a friend," Shinji remarked, having absolutely no idea what he was walking in on, sauntering on over with a champagne flute filled with beer.

"Awfully flat-looking beer there," said Kensei, eying it.

"It's scotch," Shinji replied, taking a drink. "Uh, having fun, Taka?"

Takako held her hand up wordlessly, before plastering a sweet smile on her face (which instinctively made Shinji both sigh _and_ eagerly anticipate what happened next, because he knew what was coming). "I don't know either of you from a hole in the wall. But there is no particular reason for you to bring a child into this over-populated world. You are acting like children already."

Kensei almost looked like he agreed. Shinji looked as confused as his default expressionless expression could look. Whatserface looked aghast. "Hey! That's so mean!"

"I'm mean," Takako answered. "And I need a smoke. Excuse me."

Shinji glanced between his flabbergasted stepmother and his tightly smirking father before shrugging his shoulders in a _what are you gonna do_? gesture. He turned on the spot and went after her.

* * *

Takako rolled her eyes, already hearing footsteps behind her. "Sometimes I wish I smoked. Then I could come outside to be alone and nobody would bother me."

"Yeah, all right. This is becoming a habit," Shinji remarked, leaning against the outside balcony next to her. "Gonna have to make sure the next wedding we attend doesn't have a balcony for you to hide out on, Juliet. You gonna tell me what any of that was about?"

"Your step-mother wants to have a baby," Takako answered, "but your dad doesn't, I guess. I don't know. For some reason the thought of him reproducing again and making another Mimura to neglect bothered me."

"All things considered, his neglect was probably the best thing he could've done for me," Shinji answered, rolling his eyes. "Same goes for Ikumi."

Takako shrugged. "If you say so. I just figured, if you're going to involve the sex friend in on the stupid plan, don't expect me not to say my piece."

"Yeah, something tells me we won't be invited over for a long time," Shinji chuckled. "Not sure I know where Ikumi went." He paused. "Not sure I want to know, either. Fuck. I'm gonna kill Yukie's brother."

"He's no more manipulative or sleazy than you were at his age," Takako answered distractedly, digging through her purse. "Give your sister some credit, she's not stupid. It's not like the Utsumi family didn't teach their kids morals."

Shinji felt the need to defend himself, since he'd dated the same girl all throughout high school, but Takako didn't give him the chance to, whipping out a flask and a deck of cards. "What is that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A deck of cards," Takako answered, eying him weirdly. "What else could this possibly be, Shinji?"

"I never know with you," Shinji answered defensively. "Why do you have this?"

Takako shrugged. "Figured you'd want a distraction and I want to kick your ass at BS. Sit." She shuffled the deck of cards and glanced back up at him. "What are you looking at? Take a picture, it'll last longer."

Shinji shrugged, the corner of his mouth raising in a half-smile. "Nothing. I like looking at you sometimes. You're beautiful."

"You're weird," Takako answered, avoiding his eye and dealing, but neither missed the little smile on her pretty face.

* * *

If he had let himself think for even one second that attending his father's wedding as his plus one would change things between them, he was almost immediately proven wrong. They got back to his house, Takako patted his shoulder once before getting in her own car and going home.

Ikumi had prodded his side and pointed out that it might have been a _good_ sign that she didn't want to hook up with him, but he'd just shrugged it off.

If things were staying the way they had been, then he'd just go back to his original plan… which now involved visiting her at work, a bag of her favorite fast food in hand. And buzzing the front desk to announce his arrival until the woman at the check-in desk finally rolled her eyes and called for Dr. Chigusa.

Takako came nearly racing into the visitor's lobby, her eyes wide. She looked Shinji up and down once and scowled, stomping over and slugging him in the shoulder. "What did I tell you about using the word _emergency _loosely!? I have work to do!"

Shinji offered a winning smile, raising the bag of food. "Brought you lunch. Got five minutes?"

Takako took the offered food, opening the bag, and looked back at him suspiciously. "One minute to scarf that down and four minutes to find somewhere quiet?"

Shinji's grin didn't falter. "It's like you can read my mind."

* * *

"Why is this so much hotter when I'm on the clock?" Takako wondered, frantically unbuttoning Shinji's shirt.

"Fuck if I know," Shinji answered, mouth on her neck as he leisurely untied the drawstring waist of her pants (scrubs were so easy to take off he had to go slow on purpose to get some enjoyment out of it). "So since you're getting paid right now, this mean I can make _playing doctor_ jokes?"

Takako made a disgusted face. "Ugh. Have you been waiting to use that joke?"

"Excuse me, Dr. Chigusa, M.D.," he answered, unhooking her bra. "Sorry I like having a doctor on speed dial."

"Well don't list me as your emergency contact. I won't come."

"Isn't that against your Hippocratic Oath?" he asked, dropping to his knees in front of her and putting a hand on her flat stomach to keep her still.

Takako nodded, biting her lip and groaning, trying not to mash her hips into his face. "Yeah. I'd let you die."

"Oh, okay. Just for that, you don't get _this_."

"Hey! Goddamn, Mimura, never took you for a—" He picked her up and shoved her against the wall, and that seemed to shut her up for a few minutes.

* * *

Takako had asked him where he was running off to in such a hurry, but he was purposefully vague. Not because she had to go back to work _anyway_ but because he didn't think she'd be too thrilled with his afternoon plans.

He parked his car and looked up at the little building, smiling a little at the nostalgia. Hard to believe it'd been ten years since he'd followed Hiroki around this building, terrorizing him and making fun of him about being afraid of talking to a pretty girl considering who he was best friends with…

It was the same dojo Hiroki had trained at when he was younger, and he'd become a teacher after college to pay off student loans. His sensei was delighted to have him aboard, and after the older man retired two years ago, Hiroki had taken over.

There probably wasn't a guy alive who loved his job more, Shinji thought with a grin, the bell on the door announcing his presence as he walked inside. That was the thing about being stuck in a love triangle of some sorts with Hiroki Sugimura. Hiroki was just such a damn good guy.

Hiroki glanced up once before going back to what he was originally doing, patiently walking a small child through a complicated-looking kata while other kids watched in awe.

"Hey, Mim," said Hiroki in surprise, waving. The dozen-odd tiny children dressed in karate uniforms turned around and stared at Shinji in unison. "You guys remember Shinji, right? Mim, want to help with a demonstration, while you're here?"

Shinji snorted. "No wonder you have so many trophies, you're beating up little kids," he said, punching Hiroki in the shoulder playfully.

"Very funny. Kids, you want to see that move I was telling you about in person?" Hiroki suggested, his words being met with cheers from the kids.

"You are raising a team of tiny assassins to do your bidding, aren't you?" Shinji asked, chuckling.

"Busted. Now come on, get in a stance and try to hit me," said Hiroki, looking a bit _too _eager.

Shinji shook his head. "I am not attacking you. I can't school you in front of all these kids, they'll lose respect for their sensei." He looked down at his clothes. "Also, can't have you messing these up."

Hiroki chuckled. "Come on, Mim, here's a golden opportunity to come and get me. I'll even look the other way. I just want to show these kids what they can learn to do if they put their mind to it."

"Show us! Show us!" chanted the kids excitedly.

Shinji glanced at the kids. They were very cute, albeit bloodthirsty, and much to Shinji's surprise, there _was_ a moment in their history of their friendship when he had wanted to punch Hiroki. He could see it clearly in his mind too; sweaty 18-year-old college freshman Takako, pink sports bra, black tank top and white shorts, flushing and staring down at her sneakers, determined not to meet his eye as she confessed to being in love with her best friend.

He lunged at Hiroki, and to his credit, Hiroki looked momentarily stunned before trapping Shinji in a hold. Shinji realized he couldn't move a muscle, and sighed, mentally hoping Hiroki would go easy on him while throwing him across the room.

Hiroki explained the grapple to the cheering children, and then just as Shinji expected, he was promptly sent flying a full 180 through the air, and landed on his back behind Hiroki in a particularly painful manner.

The kids cheered. "Do it again!" cheered one.

Little bastards, Shinji thought with a wince, this is why I will never have kids, damn it all—

"Mim, I'm sorry," said Hiroki apologetically, crouching down beside Shinji and offering him a hand. He turned towards his kids and chuckled. "And that is why you never lunge at an opponent with a limb extended. It's like you're giving your opponent a leg up to take you down."

"Fuck," Shinji complained.

"Language, please! They are children," Hiroki hissed (the kids were still cheering too loudly to hear much of anything, of course).

Shinji had a sudden evil idea, and his smirk reflected this. "Hey, Hiroki."

"Yeah?" Hiroki asked.

"Remember Jaguar?"

Hiroki nodded. "Of course I—" Shinji flashed him a wicked smile, grabbed the ankles of Hiroki's pants, and pulled.

"HE PANTSED SENSEI!" shouted one boy, and the kids all began to laugh even as Hiroki flushed bright red, seizing the front of his pants and yanking them back up to frantically re-tie his belt.

"Very funny!" Hiroki complained. "You would never win in an honest fight, you cheater. I should've known what you were up to right as you mentioned Jaguar."

Shinji just laughed. "Good to hear, my man. At least you weren't wearing a thong."

Hiroki shuddered. "I'm imagining the look on Mitsu's face. She'd have a cow. Or enjoy it. Not sure what frightens me more, to be quite honest." Then he paused. "Speaking of having a cow, that was the first time I've ever seen that kind of terrifying look in a man's eyes, Mim. What, ah, were you thinking of when you charged at me? Did I do something I should apologize for?"

"Uh, I was meeting Shu for late lunch, thought you might want to tag along," Shinji answered, thinking quickly.

* * *

"So, Shu's meeting us, right?" Hiroki asked, smiling peacefully, folding his hands and resting them on the table.

"Said he would," Shinji answered, eyes on his phone.

"Drop it, Mimura, you lying prick. Shu is with Taka right now, Taka said something about needing a woman's opinion about something." Hiroki's smile widened at the BUSTED expression on Shinji's face. "What's going on, Mim? This about that _thing_ I'm not supposed to know about?"

"What thing?" Shinji asked, blinking.

"You know what I know. You just don't know I know what you know I'm not supposed to know."

Shinji stared. "_What_?"

"You violated Takako with your penis. Repeatedly," Hiroki accused. "I wasn't gonna say anything but—"

"You know about that? Oh, fuck me, takes a load off my mind, then. I was here to confess and repent." Shinji paused. "Not repent. Cannot promise it's not gonna happen again. It will _definitely_ happen again. But—"

"Shut the hell up," Hiroki suggested, sighing. "Look. I'm not exactly jumping up and down here. But Taka's a grown woman and she, ah, _knows your ways_—are you still in love with her?"

Shinji coughed, surprised. "Am I _what_? No."

Hiroki scowled. "I know you liked her before you started going out with Chisato. I think Mitsuko mentioned it a few times too, how close you guys were. She thought you were going out."

"Kind of like how everyone thought you and Taka were going out back in the day," Shinji answered.

"Yeah, and you sure cleared those rumors up fast, didn't you?" Hiroki laughed. "Should've figured it out then. Mim, you asked me about Taka in our first year, and I know how close you guys have been since college. After all these years… all this time I just thought you gave up on her."

Shinji shrugged, considering it. "It's not that black and white, mate. I never gave any serious thought to settling down, and I knew Taka wouldn't believe me even if I got on bended knee and promised I'd stay faithful to her. I let bygones be bygones. Really wasn't until very recently that I started making an active effort again."

"You dated Chisato for three years, isn't that proof enough that you can do monogamy?" Hiroki asked.

Shinji just shrugged again. "She's picky."

"You've wanted to ask Taka out since we were sixteen—_sixteen_—and you had the nerve to make fun of me? At all? Ever?" Hiroki asked, looking outraged. He paused. "Does Takako know this?"

"She… is aware of it," Shinji said after a moment, feeling uncomfortable. "She knows I'm interested, she's just not too into it herself."

"I see." Hiroki smiled sympathetically. "Well, keep at her, Mim. I don't have to tell you Taka is one of the most stubborn women on the planet, do I?"

Shinji chuckled. "Definitely not. So, subject change. When are you and Mitsuko getting married? Got a date yet?"

"She just wants a snowy wedding. I know, I know, nobody gets married in a blizzard. But she wants a white wedding, apparently saw it in a movie and liked the idea or something. And…"

* * *

Putting a bar next to a hospital was probably a lawsuit waiting to happen and some city manager's nightmare (the liability of having drunk patients _or _drunk lawyers would be a paperwork nightmare for the hospital staff too) but Dr. Takako Chigusa, M.D., was too busy trying to get a buzz on to really care.

Nobody ever came to this bar anyway without being associated with the hospital in some way, which meant she was likely to run into coworkers. Who she did not like. Damn.

Right now she was actually exhausting her incredibly small list of people to hang out with, and she was down to her first—and final—candidate.

"Shuuya, come on. I just want someone to get a fucking beer with me who isn't going to try and get in my pants. Your wife is not going to leave you. We have no natural rapport, if I was going to try to deflower you I would've done it years ago—"

("HEY!")

"Fine! I didn't want to hang out with you anyway, I was desperate and you are literally _the_ last human being I know." Takako ignored Shuuya's outraged whine of protest ("HEY!") and hung up.

She was so busy regretting not making more friends in her early 20s that she hadn't noticed the attractive gentleman at the bar and trying to catch her eye.

* * *

TRIVIA QUESTION (I know periberi's gonna get this one, like, immediately, but go for the gold too!): where ELSE in my stories did Shinji and Takako play BS?


End file.
